tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-252336472024-03-13T15:11:52.818+05:30www.SStutor.com blogBlog of my travels - offshoot from www.sstutor.comAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.comBlogger183125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-16926154270930030072019-01-07T08:00:00.000+05:302019-01-07T08:00:00.344+05:30Corporate Politricks - 8 (chapter 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>(Use the navigation within this blog site to read earlier episodes)</i></div>
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A recap of the main characters who have appeared till this episode:</span></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Vignesh (Vicky) - Team Lead. Hoping for promotion; competing with Karthick</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Gokul - same team as Vignesh; designation: Senior Software Engineer</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Merv - same team; hired by Karthick; Associate Software Engineer</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Karthick (Sir Karthick) - Team Lead</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Colonel - another Team Lead</span></li>
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<b>THE PAST</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh was disturbed from his work when Sir Karthick stood up and announced, “Guys, we have team meeting now.” When no one from their team spanning across six cubicles reacted, he shouted, “Let’s go to Orion.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a delay everyone trudged out; many unwillingly. Vignesh stared at Sir Karthick for a few seconds. He wondered how he stayed in such good shape even though he never did any exercise. He was fair, well built with broad shoulders and smart looking. He could have easily passed off as a model. And to add to it he was getting promoted as well. Everything was going his way. Vignesh consoled himself saying that it was just his bad luck that his boss favoured Karthick. There were numerous reasons that he could come up with. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>They both come from the same place. Karthick had more visibility in the last few months while I was preoccupied with my home construction. Karthick made use of every opportunity to make his presence felt at the top. Karthick was included in all the meetings with the client while I was always kept out of them. Even on questioning, I was told that I didn’t need to attend them since it was a waste of time. And even team meetings are now run by him.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh joined Merv and Gokul in the elevator.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What’s in today’s meeting?” Merv asked Gokul when the doors closed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gokul raised his eyes upwards while his spectacles slid down his hawkish nose. He spoke in a whisper as if the elevator had ears, “The farewell of course.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“That I know. I arranged for the cake. What else?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Client downsizing. A couple of retirements. And more restrictions for our restricted area!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“More restrictions?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah. Some security thing – they may have heard about other clients and decided to fortify our area.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh was surprised since he hadn’t heard anything about the restrictions and he wondered how Gokul knew about the downsizing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“And our Colonel is quitting because he is attending this meeting.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Because he’s attending?” Merv asked surprised.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah. He’s attending means he doesn’t care any damn as to what happens in this team. Did you hear anything?” Gokul asked Vignesh for confirmation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was completely out of the blue for Vignesh. He was out of touch with office rumours lately since he was busy reading about tiles, paints, lighting and discussing daily with the builder on customisations for the apartment he had bought. To add to the list was the depression over his ex-girlfriend. Whenever he felt that he was slipping into a depression he reminded himself of the man in the underpass enjoying his cup of tea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He responded, “Nothing confirmed yet.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of his maxims in corporate politics was that the senior should never be taken by surprise on hearing information from juniors. But the rumour was worrying because if it were true then he was certain who was getting promoted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gokul asked, “You know what Orion is?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It’s a constellation,” Merv replied.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah, the Hunter constellation. The people quitting are the ones hunted.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Maybe the hunted are moving to greener grass.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The grass is always green on the other side. But the hunted will always be hunted no matter which grass they eat.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Gokul switched on the projector and the agenda appeared on the screen:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Project installs & learnings</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Client updates</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Organisational updates</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Farewell</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They began with project installs but there was nothing happening for the next two weeks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Karthick announced, “One update in our team. Basically we will not be allowed to bring camera phones inside our restricted area.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Immediately there was a lot of murmuring.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“In 2 weeks this will be implemented. Basically camera phones will have to be kept outside in a security locker. Like other clients area.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were a couple of basic phones available in the market without a camera; most people in other restricted areas used two phones for personal use.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The murmuring continued but Karthick just increased his voice, “Moving on… err… basically from the client side there are some changes.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The murmuring stopped. For those who weren’t in touch with the rumours they wondered if there was some impact on their work. They had heard from friends that this was how a contract termination was also announced – start by saying there are changes, then talk about the client organisation and then slip in the bad news.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Umm... Two people are retiring next month – one is a senior person. Basically they are expected to reshuffle the technology team. Considering the market situation there is a possibility of reduction in the US team size. We will have details in the next meeting. Basically it is an opportunity for us to increase team size... umm... Basically, the pipeline looks good for us.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The team felt a little relieved. Vignesh knew that even during the recession, managers said the pipeline looked strong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Basically it is the culmination of the good work that you all have done. That’s why this opportunity has come our way.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Why don’t we attribute it to being lucky? Our relative salaries are lower; so our billing rates are lower; and they are in a crunch to cut costs. It’s circumstance. How can we take credit for everything?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Any questions?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When no one replied, Sir Karthick continued, “Ok then. We will have the farewell.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The farewell was that of the cadet, the one person whom the Colonel liked in the team and whom he had mentored. The team had to wait five minutes for their manager to appear. According to Vignesh’s theory of corporate politics, the more senior the person, the more accommodative others are when the person comes late. If someone junior came late, then they would be looked down at. If it was someone senior they would say ‘He is very busy.’</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When their manager arrived he was lost in a different world. He had a 1-on-1 meeting with the Colonel before lunch and then two back to back meetings after lunch and they all drained him mentally – one was with his boss, the senior manager, and the next one was with the HR manager.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On seeing their manager, Merv started, “As you all know, today is the last day of someone special in our team. Everyone can share their thoughts and we’ll have the farewell speech after that.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As expected, the Colonel was the first to speak, “I have enjoyed working with you. You were focussed on work. Your deliveries were perfect and you did exhaustive testing. Onsite also had confidence in you. I wish you the very best.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The manager gazed at the Colonel and wondered if he had suddenly found peace. The Colonel was known to everyone as a disciplinarian who got worked up with the smallest mistakes; he was always full of complaints about everyone – associates coming late, associates wasting time chatting, associates spending too long in the cafeteria and how their team was facing the end of days. Today when he asked for a meeting, the manager wondered if he would complain about him – no one would dare complain about their boss directly but with the Colonel anything was possible. But instead of complaints, he calmly told that he was quitting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Thanks. And thanks for all your support and being my mentor,” junior replied to the compliments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once the starting trouble was taken care of, others shared their views. Merv said, “All of us will miss the technical tips he shared. We will miss the sort master.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A lot of times during crisis situations, the tricks he did using the sort tool helped them fix issues quickly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sir Karthick said, “Adding to what others have said, actually I was very sad when he said he’s leaving. Having someone of his caliber is a great asset. Basically the client team is very happy with his work and they always liked him. I always liked having him because he would come with alternate ways to solve problems.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh tried hard to control his sarcastic laughter; he still remembered a time when both of them had a heated argument over a problem. Junior was arguing that a simple sort was all that was required while Sir Karthick was saying that it could only be done by a change in the code. In the end junior quite literally pushed Sir Karthick and went ahead implementing his idea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“When you have someone like that, you broaden your scope of thinking. Unfortunately due to personal reasons he has to move. All the best.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Thanks Karthick,” he acknowledged.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the room fell silent, Merv looked in junior's direction and said, “Now it’s time for your farewell speech.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He delivered a rehearsed speech. “MegaSoft has been a great learning experience for me. I was lucky to work with some great people and there are so many things I learnt. I’d like to thank everyone for their constant support.”</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-76194349598726714422019-01-06T08:14:00.005+05:302019-01-06T08:14:59.347+05:30Corporate Politricks - 7 (chapter 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://sstutor.blogspot.com/2019/01/corporate-politricks-6-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Prior episode</a><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A recap of the main characters who have appeared till this episode:</span></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Vignesh (Vicky) - Team Lead. Hoping for promotion; competing with Karthick</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Gokul - same team as Vignesh; Senior Software Engineer; married</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Merv - same team; hired by Karthick; Associate Software Engineer</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Karthick (Sir Karthick) - Team Lead</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Colonel - another Team Lead</span></li>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Chapter 2 - Another one departs</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE PRESENT</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Vignesh spent the night wondering what might have been the security breach. He reasoned that if Bob wanted him in the loop then it had to do with Lestitude’s customer data. Was the breach due to someone from Megasoft? If that were the case, Vignesh knew that things would go downhill for the company – even if one client were to raise a security concern, there would be a ripple effect across the firm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did Bob already know who caused the breach? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning Vignesh informed his manager he would be late to office since the meeting today would extend past midnight. But he knew he couldn’t sit idle at home till evening; ever since his ex-girlfriend got married he avoided being alone. After his roommate left for work, he headed to the Government school where a chess tournament was in progress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With black’s first move itself he knew what the seventh grade player was trying to do. But the older opponent didn’t realise it. He played the wrong piece and on black’s next move, the game was over. The opponent was stunned when the kid excitedly announced, “Checkmate!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The older kid took a while to grapple with the defeat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh commented, “That’s the shortest game you can play. It’s called Fool’s mate.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Sir, when did you come? It’s Tuesday. No office today?” the little kid asked with a wide smile.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I bunked office to see you play.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Sir. Stop joking.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Just took a break. I’ve been working too much. Too much for the sake of others.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Fool’s mate is to fool the other person?” the boy asked while arranging the pieces on the board. His opponent surely didn’t like hearing the word fool.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yes, two-move checkmate.” Vignesh had played against the boy many times and had lost to him as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“How’s your girlfriend sir?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“She’s doing good. But she’s not my girlfriend now.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Try again Sir. She will like you. Go to her house and ask again. Take a guitar and sing a song.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Na; she’s married.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“She’s unlucky sir.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh smiled; he still found it hard to console himself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Sir, is there someone to note the result?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Let me find someone.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The most active person among the organisers was a middle-age lady with an id card around her neck that read ‘ATS’, directing a few people around. ATS was an IT service providing company similar to the company that Vignesh worked for. There was sweat all over her face but she was bustling with enthusiasm. In contrast to her, the school officials were happy chatting and sipping tea. Vignesh offered his help in the next round with recording of scores.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> At 1pm, after two rounds were completed, lunch was announced. Vegetarian and non vegetarian students were grouped separately; only 20% were vegetarian. The ATS lady stood on the small makeshift stage and announced, “Students please remain seated. We will serve food in your place. Don’t move around.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The menu was simple: potato gravy, cauliflower fry, roti, chicken gravy, white rice, buttermilk and gulab jamoon. The trays with food were arranged on a table on one side of the hall. The school staff were piling bones of chicken on their plates as if they had never eaten chicken in their life. When Vignesh was about to pick a plate to eat, one boy called, “Anna, can you give me some chicken.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh searched the tray but couldn't find any pieces in the gravy. The server said, “They’re getting another tray.” Vignesh was upset that the school staff were so busy eating that they didn’t care about the students. The ATS lady was visibly exhausted. She sat near the serving area with a little curd rice on her plate. She said, “You can eat something. We’ll manage till you finish.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It’s okay. No problem.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh had an idea on seeing the students waiting for food. He took a plateful of cauliflower fries and went across tables asking if anyone wanted it. By the time he reached the last table it was empty. As soon as the caterer replenished the chicken curry, he picked the chicken pieces before the school staff could lay their hands on it. By the time he crossed the second table the plate was empty. The ATS lady took over from Vignesh after she finished eating. Vignesh was exhausted but satisfied. His lunch constituted of only gulab jamoons – his favourite sweet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were three more rounds before the closing ceremony. The ATS lady gave a short speech thanking all the volunteers and students. She added, “I would also like to thank Vignesh who wasn’t part of our volunteer group but still helped us.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As she stepped off stage, she told Vignesh. “I know you didn’t have lunch but I hope you have a good dinner. I owe you a treat.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh smiled.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Which company do you work for?” she asked him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“MegaSoft Solutions. Which technology are you in?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m a HR.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His seventh grade friend finished third on the rankings. The boy was feeling the shape of each of the pieces and counting them before placing them back in his small backpack.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh waited in the bus stop with the kid. He was introduced to the boy and his school a couple of days after his proposal was rejected by the girl he madly loved. He used to visit the school on weekends and spend a couple of hours with the kids teaching or playing chess to divert his mind. He would start by reading something from their textbooks but invariably the kids would start talking about politics or technology. Seeing the kids being cheerful and cracking jokes made him happy on weekends. They helped him divert his mind from the rejection.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Your bus is here. It came before mine.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Na Sir. You’re lying. You left your bus for me.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Vignesh had a sheepish grin. “Go on.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before boarding the bus, the boy shouted, “Bye Sir. Come to school.” He used the aluminium stick in his right hand to locate the entrance to the bus. He didn’t need any help; he hardly needed a few seconds to hop into the bus unassisted.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The boy was completely blind.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While Vignesh was waiting for his bus, he noticed an elderly man near him reading the business section of the newspaper. Vignesh took a peek at the main articles – there was one about a European bank doing damage control after some of its customer information was posted online by a disgruntled employee who had recently quit. Vignesh pondered over the Lestitude situation – was it possible that the Colonel or his junior, the cadet, had done something? Both of them were openly in protest of everything that happened. And the Marshal did behave strangely during his notice period; the calmness in him was something Vignesh had never seen earlier. Was it possible?</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-34181473235888150252019-01-05T08:00:00.000+05:302019-01-05T08:00:32.279+05:30Corporate Politricks - 6 (chapter 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://sstutor.blogspot.com/2019/01/corporate-politrics-5-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Prior episode</a><span id="goog_1826373405"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1826373406"></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A recap of the main characters who have appeared till this episode:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Vignesh (Vicky) - Team Lead. Hoping for promotion; competing with Karthick</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bob - Vicky's client</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Gokul - same team as Vignesh; Senior Software Engineer; married</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Merv - same team; hired by Karthick; Associate Software Engineer</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Karthick (Sir Karthick) - Team Lead</span></li>
</ul>
<hr />
<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">(THE PAST continued)</i><br />
<div>
<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></i></div>
<div>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><div>
While Vignesh’s phone was ringing, Merv noticed the instant messenger blinking.</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Andrew: Looks like it’s stuck in the database</div>
<div>
Merv passed the information to Karthick.</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Karthick: oh</div>
<div>
Karthick was someone who could talk on any topic for hours but judging by his response Merv realised that even he didn’t have any suggestions.</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Andrew: DBA says database is fine. Some problem with the code</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: Ok</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With the DBA (database administrator) saying nothing was wrong, it meant they were on their own. While looking at dependencies on this job, Merv was shocked.</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: there’s an SLA of 11am</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Karthick: oh</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
An SLA (Service Level Agreement) was a binding legal contract between Lestitude and their customers. An SLA miss can lead to monetary damages and even lawsuits. And if Lestitude missed an SLA because of MegaSoft, the consequences would be drastic. Merv went through everything once again in the hope that something would strike him; but nothing did. With no ideas popping and his head aching, he stepped out of the cubicle again. He wished Vignesh were around because he would definitely have ideas. After trying Vignesh’s phone one more time, he took another break. This time he picked an umbrella from the stack that was kept at the entrance to DC3 – every DC had an umbrella stand with MegaSoft umbrellas that people could use while they walked between DCs.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On the 3rd floor of the food court was a dormitory with 20 beds and a few shower rooms as well. Merv swiped his ID card to obtain access to the dorm. The dim light from the passage that led to the shower rooms was sufficient to identify the occupied beds. Merv had never slept in the dormitory but he had used the shower a few times. The usage of the dorm had dropped drastically after there was a strict policy of governance on dorm usage – in case someone used it frequently, they and their boss were questioned.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Picking a towel from the neatly stacked lot, he stepped into a shower room. Merv always felt better after taking a shower when he had these headaches. He adjusted the shower for warm water. The orange box was still running in his mind and he wondered what could be wrong? </div>
<div>
<i>The code had never changed, volume of input hadn’t increased, there were only four places in the code that the database was accessed and they were never modified in the last few months. </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As he enjoyed the shower, it suddenly struck him.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Vignesh taught me this. Why didn’t I think of it before?</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He was careful not to run into the dorm for fear of waking the two employees who were sleeping peacefully. He swiped his card to exit the room and dashed down the stairs. Thankfully the rain had stopped. Merv didn’t ping anyone; he checked the code and the database to confirm his reasoning. In his excitement, he quickly modified the code and tested it. The problem didn't crop up in development with the faulty code because the database had a lot fewer records.</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: we should include the new column in the four queries</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Karthick: oh</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: the database was changed to add this column but this code wasn’t changed</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Karthick: ok</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He called Karthick and explained the problem. Immediately Karthick began lecturing about databases. But Merv was so excited that he didn’t allow Karthick to talk for long. He told him about the modified code that he created before disconnecting the call. With the help of Andy he got the new program executed in production. The SLA deadline was two hours away. After 58 minutes the orange box turned green. Karthick pinged asking him to go home. The time on the computer read 20:40 and the mess where he ate dinner would close at 9pm.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The roads inside campus and outside were contrasting. There wasn’t any water logging in the pathways in office but the roads outside had ankle deep water even though the rain had stopped an hour ago. This was supposed to be the grand IT highway but though companies were mushrooming on the main road, interior development was very slow. The Andhra mess with an asbestos roof was halfway between office and his home. The mess was packed to capacity even in this rain except for one vacant seat in the centre table. On seeing Merv, the mother of the household put up a big smile. She always liked to see Merv because he was one of the few customers who talked to her. Another call to Vignesh yielded a different response – the mobile was not reachable. Merv wondered where he could have gone for so long without informing anyone.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Monday morning Vignesh tried to start his day with a happy face. He reminded himself of how lucky he was; he reminded himself of the poor man in the underpass. There were 40 unread mails in Vignesh’s mailbox and many of them had a similar subject line. The first one was from Merv who had solved an issue and fixed the code; he had kept Vignesh in the loop. The second one was a reply of thanks from Sir Karthick:</div>
<div>
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Thanks Merv for researching the problem. I will talk to the client about this.”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The third one was a reply from their client. The client appreciated Karthick and added a note for Vignesh on the last project that was successfully validated a few days earlier. On reading the mail a second time he noticed that Merv was not mentioned; the original mail from Karthick didn’t include him either. The next mail was from their manager, sent today morning, appreciating Karthick and Vignesh and also had their SPM, the Senior Project Manager, in the loop. The final mail on this thread was from their SPM who replied immediately. He was known to stay connected via his Blackberry from early in the morning to late at night all through the week.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A few minutes later when Merv came to office, he excitedly updated Vignesh about his learnings on Saturday.</div>
<div>
“Ya, I saw the mail. Karthick was in office?”</div>
<div>
“No. He logged from home.”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Did Karthick intentionally not include Merv in his mail to the client?</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
Karthick soon walked in, shook Merv’s hand and announced, “Well done Merv. The clients were very happy with your work. You ensured there will be no future problem. Good job.”</div>
<div>
Merv felt proud as his team mates turned around to look at what was happening.</div>
<div>
“Well done. Keep it up,” Karthick repeated.</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<i>This is what they call on the spot appreciation! ‘Give credit to your team; put the spotlight on your team; appreciate them.’ What crap; hog the limelight yourself and extract maximum benefits from the situation. This was a coverup.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Vignesh’s mood turned from cheerful to angry; he was furious and as if on cue, someone started clapping and everyone followed suit.</div>
</span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-76543213432032850722019-01-03T08:00:00.000+05:302019-01-03T08:00:11.772+05:30Corporate Politrics - 5 (chapter 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<a href="http://sstutor.blogspot.com/2019/01/corporate-politricks-4-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Prior episode</a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A recap of the main characters who have appeared till this episode:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Vignesh (Vicky) - Team Lead. Hoping for promotion; competing with Karthick</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bob - Vicky's client</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Gokul - same team as Vignesh; Senior Software Engineer; married</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Merv - same team; hired by Karthick; Associate Software Engineer</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Karthick (Sir Karthick) - Team Lead</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<hr />
<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">(THE PAST continued)</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merv hadn’t done much for the day but he felt tired due to the unsolved issue. Since they would have to wait a while to know if rerunning would magically solve the problem, he stepped out of the secured area in search of friends. Unknown faces looked up to see who was intruding their cubicle space. At this hour, the ones who remained in the building were those who were seriously working. The casual timepass employees were back home by now. Finally he saw a familiar face – Sreejith, who was part of their lunch gang, was slumped in a chair. Only his head was to be seen above the table.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hey, what are you still doing?” </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sreejith’s cubicle had full attendance.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We have a prototype demo on Monday.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Your boss is not around?” Merv searched for the friendly teddy bear face of Sreejith’s boss. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“He never came. Told us to complete this by Monday. And told us to keep him updated throughout the weekend.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every desk had a small whiteboard near the computer and all four whiteboards in Sreejith’s cubicle were filled with data – grids, tables, algorithms and even some sketches drawn in frustration.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“According to Vignesh’s corporate politics theory, as they climb the ladder they work on only presentations and spreadsheets.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merv proudly said, “But my boss is online.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Don’t tell me he’s helping you.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“He’s trying,” Merv defended.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Nothing like that. You’re dreaming. Just because he’s logged into the machine doesn’t mean anything. He will be logged in but romancing his wife.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“He’s not married.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ok. His girlfriend.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merv shrugged his shoulders.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sreejith said, “Our boss is also going to get promoted like yours.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“To PL?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ya. Crazy – he has years of experience but no skills. Look at his place; you will see a line of certificates as if they are Oscar awards.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merv peeped into the single seater cubicle; even training completion certificates were proudly displayed as if they were hard to get.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We’ll do everything, all the dirty work. He’ll get an update from us and copy paste that to the world as if he knows everything.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Obviously all four of them in the cubicle didn’t like their boss since Sreejith was talking loudly.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Vignesh was completely drenched in the rain but he kept walking at a slow pace on the main road with vehicles on either side honking. On one of the main junctions on Mount Road there was chaos since the signals were not working and there was no traffic policeman. Vignesh continued on a straight line unaffected as vehicles swerved around him. Tears rolled down his face, mixed with rain water. He felt the rain Gods were also crying with him.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He found himself on the right side of the road near the Gemini flyover, a prominent landmark in Chennai that connected four main areas of the city; on one side was the American consulate and on another side a premium hotel. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many people huddled under the shelter offered by a bus stop. Vignesh instead sat on the footpath in front of the bus stop with his face buried in his palms. An auto-driver came very close to him and paused for a while. Vignesh certainly didn’t look like a potential passenger since he was already drenched. After a while, unaware of how long he had spent sitting, he walked to the underpass used for crossing the road. A few people were crowded at the entrance, peeking from time to time in the hope that a bus would show up. The steps heading down were wet and there was a little water stagnating at the bottom.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Inside the underpass there were a couple of men in ragged clothes lying on opposite sides. Vignesh wondered why there weren’t more such men in this place; it seemed safe to spend the night. The man on the left was well equipped; he was lying on a bed-sheet and had another bed-sheet to cover himself. The man on the right didn’t have any sheet; his torn shirt was a khaki shirt similar to the ones worn by bus drivers. Below his waist he had something like a half length dhoti. It was hard to guess his age because he had an unkempt beard and his curly blackish brown hair was falling over his face. His thin legs had open wounds, the sight of which pained Vignesh. The man used a couple of soiled Tamil newspapers as mattress. Vignesh walked slowly, observing every action. Behind the man was a partially squashed plastic bottle with some brown fluid inside that looked like tea or coffee. The bottle was between his back and the wall. It was as if he were guarding a precious possession because even if he closed his eyes, he would know if someone tried to take the bottle. The man suddenly bolted upright as if he had an urgent appointment and crossed his legs. He looked to his left to see Vignesh, a harmless passerby. He had seen many people today but seeing someone wearing a jacket and yet being drenched was something new. The world was crazy the man thought to himself. He picked the bottle gently as if it were fragile. Beside the bottle was a small white plastic cup that was smeared in dirt. Vignesh noticed a faint smile on the man’s face as he poured the tea slowly into the cup. No hurry, no wastage. The tea was adulterated with lots of water. He slowly sipped the liquid from the dirty cup which he must have used a hundred times. He smiled with each sip, unaware that the drenched passerby was staring at him. The man was lost in his own world of joy with his cup of tea. There he was lying in the underpass with stains on the walls, puddles of muddy water in front of him, mosquitoes buzzing around, open wounds that hadn't healed and there he was smiling with his watery drink.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Realising that he was staring for too long, Vignesh moved forward. Hardly had he taken a few steps when tears rushed down in full force matching the downpour outside.</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-41462152601568026712019-01-02T08:13:00.002+05:302019-01-02T08:13:21.737+05:30Corporate Politricks - 4 (chapter 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<a href="https://sstutor.blogspot.com/2019/01/corporate-politricks-3-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Prior episode</a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A recap of the main characters who have appeared till this episode:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Vignesh (Vicky) - Team Lead. Hoping for promotion; competing with Karthick</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bob - Vicky's client</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Gokul - same team as Vignesh; Senior Software Engineer; married</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Merv - same team as Vignesh; hired by Karthick; Associate Software Engineer</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Karthick (Sir Karthick) - Team Lead</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">(THE PAST continued)</i><br />
<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br /></i>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> As the Saturday progressed, so did Vignesh’s depression. He took a bus to Express Avenue, one of the biggest malls in Chennai. Given the large area, Vignesh wandered aimlessly – to a casual observer they would have thought he was window shopping but he was filled with thoughts about the girl he had been mad about. Whenever he saw a guy and a girl walking hand-in-hand he was pained by the sight. It was 2pm when the amount of walking took a toll on his body; the sight of a KFC counter made him pause. For many months he had avoided junk food as much as possible due to his girlfriend because the effect of such food would immediately reflect on his physique. But today he hoarded on fries, chicken nuggets, potato wedges and a glass of Diet Coke to wash it all down. Feeling satisfied with the food he looked around at the people on other tables. The feeling of joy was instantly forgotten at the sight of guys in the company of pretty girls. He immediately left the mall.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The skies looked threatening but he didn’t care. Even if an earthquake were to strike he would not have cared. He walked for more than thirty minutes in the direction of a movie complex on Mount Road. This was an underrated multiplex – except for the congested parking, the seats and theatre was as good as any other in the city. The first sight that welcomed Vignesh was a couple standing in the queue buying tickets. The guy held the girl’s right hand at the counter; he held it firmly and refused to leave her hand even while pulling out money to pay for the ticket. Vignesh looked away and waited till the happy couple moved out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Which movie sir?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“For which movie now do you have tickets?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“How many sir?” the lady asked him as if this were a normal request. For Vignesh this was the first time he was walking into a movie theatre without booking beforehand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“One.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were a couple of movies – one was an English comedy and the other was a Telugu one. His aim was to kill three hours and didn’t care how.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The hall was only half full; but since it was running for more than a week he thought it must have been a decent movie. There were two words that he understood other than the regular usage of English mixed with Telugu.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ekadda?” the hero would ask and a friend would give him directions on where to find the heroine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And there were instances when the characters would suddenly shriek, “Enti?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was supposed to be an action thriller but not knowing the language, Vignesh just went through the motions. For once he didn’t mind the loud jarring songs since they drowned the cries of his heart. A group of youngsters in front of him were laughing all through the movie; they were obviously making fun of every move made by the hero while one person in the group was trying hard to defend him. Everyone around was talking in Telugu. During the interval Vignesh realised that he had forgotten his mobile at home. He bought a small cup of caramel coated popcorn that cost an exorbitant Rs.150; people watching movies didn’t seem to mind spending money. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>And why not when you have your love with you? </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The boys in front obviously knew the sequence of scenes because even before the item-song started, they began screaming and howling. The skimpily dressed model was dancing in a bar; the audience in the bar and the audience in the theatre were whistling and applauding every move she made. The model was supposed to have been paid a crore for this song. It was quite a provocative dance and there was a mother in the audience who was uncomfortable with her young kid watching the so called dance steps. She took the boy outside and as soon as the song ended she returned with the boy gleefully licking on an ice-cream cone. The item-song certainly made everyone happy except Vignesh who was unimpressed. Item-songs had become mandatory in Indian films; some called it vulgarity while some called it art – in the end it was a simple case of catering to the demand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The staircase leading to the exit was crammed with people and moved very slowly because of the rain outside. It was 7:50pm when Vignesh stepped on the street wearing his jacket. He was greeted by a strong increase in the intensity of rain. The gully road connecting to the main road was flooded with water till knee level. Vignesh placed his right hand on a compound wall while wading slowly through the water by placing one foot ahead of him to test for open manholes. Open manholes had consumed many a life this year in the city. Till he reached the main road he had the hood of the jacket over his head. Once on the main road he wondered, ‘Why am I so worried of getting drenched in the rain? Is rain a bigger worry?’</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He pulled off the hood wondering why he had even taken the jacket in the first place and why he was worried about manholes. If the earth wanted to suck him, he was fine with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He cursed himself for having believed things would change; he cursed himself for the way he behaved; he cursed himself for having cared for her even after being rejected.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Was it because of caste that she rejected me? Or was caste an excuse? </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He cursed the caste system. But he reasoned that if she really loved him, caste wouldn’t have deterred her. He knew people who had married across castes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Why did I believe that she liked me? What’s the point of life?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Gokul and Merv had lunch in the foodcourt and then played snooker in the second floor. Gokul said, “I’ve not defeated you even once.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He envied Merv; not because of him being a better player but because of his independence – a bachelor who could do anything he pleased at anytime.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Both of them played till 3pm when Merv’s phone vibrated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Oh damn.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gokul teased, “Your wakeup call.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the red light started flashing on the dashboard, depending on the criticality of the job an automated message would be sent. The expectation was that the primary person should respond to the alert within five minutes. If they didn’t, then the alert would be escalated to the secondary and then their manager.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Got to go.” Saying so he dashed down the steps and ran on the stone path to DC3. To his surprise there was no red box on the screen. In his hurry he hadn’t even checked the message. The dashboard had an orange box. Orange meant an unusual delay in the job. He had seen a few oranges in the past but they would disappear on their own. He hoped the same would be the case today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gokul received a call from his wife. He wanted to ignore it but finally decided against it because otherwise he would have had to put up with her lecture at night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yes.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ok.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Ok ok; I know.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His wife was explaining which type of banana she wanted. Her shrill voice sounded like an opera singer on the phone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I won’t forget.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Bye.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Immediately after he disconnected the call, he got a message from his wife with the same information.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merv was a little worried. The job was already 35 minutes late.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Not solved?” asked Gokul getting up from his chair.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“No.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Check if there was some code change.” There were instances when problems happened because of some goof up they did in the development team.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Nothing in one year.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Maybe there is more data to process,” Gokul suggested.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Input is smaller than last time.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Andrew, from the system services team, messaged him on their internal messenger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Andrew: Any idea about the problem?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He began typing Andrew but then changed it to Andy. He didn’t know why Andrew was always called Andy or why Robert was a Bob and not Rob. In fact he was told that a Robert wouldn’t like to be called Robert.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: Andy, I’m not sure. The code’s not been changed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Andrew: Okay. Let me check where it’s taking time</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: Ok</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gokul took a look at the issue but didn’t have any clues. He suggested, “What about Vignesh?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The phone kept ringing till it was replaced by a recording, ‘The subscriber you have dialled is unavailable. Please try again later.’ </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He tried again three times but to no avail. The next person he tried was Karthick, his boss. Unlike Vignesh, he responded immediately and connected to the network from home. Merv hoped Karthick would have some ideas.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Karthick: run the job in dev region</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: k</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It took him an hour to setup the job and in 15 minutes it completed. He relayed the message to Karthick. He suggested to rerun the job in production. The production job was now running overtime for 150 minutes. Gokul had disappeared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Merv: Andy, can you rerun the job? We ran in dev and its fine</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Andy didn’t respond for a long time; he was unconvinced by the approach. Even Merv was unconvinced but not having any ideas of his own he thought of giving it a try. Rerunning worked whenever a job failed; but this job hadn't failed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Andrew: Okay</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merv hadn’t done much for the day but he felt tired due to the unsolved issue. Since they would have to wait a while to know if rerunning would magically solve the problem, he stepped out of the secured area in search of friends. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-78606419142290280122019-01-01T08:00:00.000+05:302019-01-03T07:46:03.871+05:30Corporate Politricks - 3 (chapter 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://sstutor.blogspot.com/2018/12/corporate-politricks-2-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Prior episode</a><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A recap of the main characters who have appeared till this episode:</span></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Vignesh (Vicky) - Team Lead. Hoping for promotion; competing with Karthick</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bob - Vicky's client</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Gokul - same team as Vignesh; Senior Software Engineer; married</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Merv - same team as Vignesh; hired by Karthick; Associate Software Engineer</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Karthick (Sir Karthick) - Team Lead</span></li>
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<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">(THE PAST continued)</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The following morning Vignesh was restless. He was someone who was late to bed and late to rise on weekends but today was different – he woke up early and was anxious. He struggled to eat cornflakes and kept checking the time frequently as if that would make it move faster. He had messaged her a few times but for three hours didn't receive a reply. There were a couple of times when people had rejected her saying she was dark or saying that she was too lean and he couldn’t believe that people could say such things to her. There was no one to disturb Vignesh since his roommate had gone to Bangalore for the weekend. Vignesh didn’t know what he wanted: one side wished that she would get married soon so that he could move on in life while the other side wished that he was the one for her. Finally there was a ping sound from his laptop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>gud news</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Those two words were enough for Vignesh to guess how the morning went. Everything was finalised – marriage was within a month and they had even booked the marriage hall.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Vignesh: congrats</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He thought over the months that had passed. <i>Damn.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She messaged again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>u shud come 4 marriage. im booking ur time now itself</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He had no idea how he would attend her marriage. The more he thought of it, the more angry he felt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>How could I see another guy holding her hand? Damn; it’s unfair. Two years mad about her has come to this. And the London guy did it through a webcam in ten minutes.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He was unsure if he was angry on her or on himself for having lived in an illusionary world, dreaming that someday she would change her rejection to acceptance. Or maybe it was anger for having been defeated – defeated in ten minutes. Thinking of defeat reminded him of his meeting with his manager yesterday; even there he had been defeated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Vignesh was happy that they were chatting online. Even on phone one could guess the other person’s state but online it was very difficult to pick the signs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>chk his photo.. i sent u now..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This was one of the rare occasions where she hadn’t shown him the photo before the meeting. The guy was a little chubby with a nerdish look because of his round frameless glasses. Vignesh knew that she liked both those features and he had neither of them. Vignesh was skinny, average height, no spectacles and a slightly protruding waistline.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Vignesh: looks gud</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Vignesh: hey I got to go now. Catch you later. Enjoy your duets in wonderland</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There was nowhere to go but he had a fear that the longer they chatted, the higher the probability of him saying something inappropriate. He told himself that he had to move on in life. Sometimes it is choices that create confusions. But no matter how he tried to console himself, he felt hurt. He felt life was cruel to deal blows like this one after the other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Merv cheerfully wished the security guards in office as if it were a regular weekday. He was the primary support person for the weekend. Everyday there was a batch cycle that ran during the US night time. The cycle consisted of a sequence of steps or jobs. In case any job failed, the support person had to resolve the issue so that the cycle could resume. Due to the time zone difference, the Friday night cycle in US was effectively a Saturday morning cycle in Indian time. The time zone difference was one reason for US companies to outsource to India. Merv didn’t mind being the primary on weekends since he was anyway coming to office every Saturday. And weekend support earned him an extra allowance. He could have availed the cab service as well but having moved within a ten-minute walking distance of office, he considered it as indulging in excess. Office was already providing him a lot of perks: free Internet, unlimited drinking water that was the best water he could get, electricity without interruption while the rest of the city had daily load shedding and central air-conditioning to beat the Chennai heat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv headed to the second floor of DC3. Their area was a secure area – only people working on projects for the client Lestitude Financials were allowed to enter. Certain clients who were worried of data security demanded such areas. There was a mini-lobby with a couple of security men who searched bags: backpacks, laptop bags and plastic bags were always inspected; no personal laptops or memory cards were permitted. Merv had a friendly chitchat with the guard before flashing his card against the turnstile to enter the secure area. The Lestitude Financials secured area was a little relaxed compared to other clients who didn’t even permit camera mobiles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After picking a cup of coffee from the pantry, Merv went through his emails and checked the online dashboard where he could view the cycle execution. Saturday was when he caught up with the huge number of unread forward emails in his inbox. Many of them were pictures of actresses from different woods – Hollywood, Kollywood, Bollywood, Tollywood etc. There were some jokes while some that claimed to be life-saving tips were actually harmful tips that could kill a person.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul came to office in a bright orange t-shirt. Though married, he was a frequent Saturday visitor and on Saturdays he always sported flashy colours. His wife hadn't woken up when he was getting ready and so there was no restriction on what to wear. Her waking up late on weekends was a constant complaint from his mom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Hi, how’s the cycle going?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“So far so good.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul found the peace in office comforting than the commotion at home where his parents and wife kept nagging him. Either his parents wanted to go out or his wife wanted to go out; he was tired of driving within the city on weekends and the constant pestering at home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“What forward are you analysing?” he asked Merv.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“The one on heart attacks.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul took his seat to the left of Merv in the same cubicle. “Ah; rub your heart while driving to save yourself.” It was an email that Gokul had sent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“It works only for a specific type of heart attack; not all.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“If it works, it’s good.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Yeah. People will keep rubbing instead of going to the doctor!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These were the forward emails Merv spent most time reading on weekends – he’d research the information online, find sources that claimed it was false and then reply back to the sender as well as his group of friends highlighting the mistake. Merv felt obliged to reveal the truth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A few minutes later the dashboard was flashing in red.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Oh damn; first job down for the day.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Over time Merv learnt that whenever a job failed, the first thing to do was rerun the job and hope it completed successfully. It sounded a ridiculously simple solution but that’s what worked often.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He called the system services team in the US which was part of the client’s IT workforce.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Hi, good evening.” It certainly wasn’t evening for them but he couldn’t start the conversation with a good night. “Can you rerun a job?” He gave the job details and in a minute the red changed to yellow and then green.</span><br />
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<a href="http://sstutor.blogspot.com/2019/01/corporate-politricks-4-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Next episode</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-28151419447249868352018-12-31T08:00:00.000+05:302019-01-03T07:45:00.727+05:30Corporate Politricks - 2 (chapter 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://sstutor.blogspot.com/2018/12/corporate-politricks-1-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Prior episode</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A recap of the main characters who have appeared till this episode:</span></div>
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<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Vignesh (Vicky) - 6 years IT experience. Hoping for promotion</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bob - Vicky's client</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(THE PAST continued)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The MegaSoft campus had five buildings with four of them used as development centres (DC) and the central one being the canteen. In the canteen, Gokul patted Merv’s head and exclaimed, “Ouch. It’s sharper today.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul and Merv had contrasting features; Gokul was on the shorter side with ruffled hair while Merv was lanky with short spiky hair that always stood up as if electrified. Gokul wore a gold ring on his right hand while Merv didn’t even wear a watch. Gokul didn’t like the ring but his wife was adamant. He would remove the ring when he came to office and put it back before he entered home but one day he forgot. The result was a big lecture by his wife in her shrill voice that hurt his ear. The more angry she got, the more shrill her voice became. After that he never removed the ring from his hand. The same was the case with his hair – he combed it by hand but she would force him to use a comb. The breeze in the morning bus ride would ruffle his hair and in office he would use his hand to comb. Marriage had truly brought changes in him</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">All of them bought lunch from the SnackHere counter except the two girls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“What’s up Gokul? Fight at home?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He usually brought food from home that the others would pounce on. “No, just for a change.” It was true that he wanted a change. But the fallout was a fight with his wife who pestered him asking if her cooking wasn’t good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“That’s what she told you to tell us?” Merv teased him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul didn’t respond and hoped to change the topic. Being in February, the most talked about topic was promotions and Gokul commented, “Sir Karthick’s performance was bad in today’s meeting. Basically only 18 times.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv replied, “Come on; not so many times for sure. All of us use fillers. He uses basically.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul laughed, “Basically since he interviewed you, you have basically selective amnesia to his basically. But good news for you is that Sir Karthick will basically get promoted this time.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The promotions in MegaSoft happened a couple of months prior to the appraisal cycle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv asked, “What happened to the army Colonel?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The two people in their lunch gang who were from different teams were lost in the conversation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul explained the situation, “Our team has one PM, the manager. But there is no PL in our team. The contenders for PL are the army Colonel, Vignesh and Sir Karthick... the 3 TLs.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">PM was Project Manager, PL for Project Lead and TL for Team Lead in decreasing order of authority.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Colonel?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv said, “Yeah. Colonel is a high rank in the army. English is a funny language; they spell it c-o-l-o-n-e-l but pronounce it k-u-r-n-e-l. Anyway, our Colonel is a disciplinarian. Story goes that he missed getting into the army because of some politics in the final interview. We also have a cadet in the team.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“A cadet?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul replied, “Ya. Cadets are the junior level in the army. The one person our Colonel loves is the cadet. And our Colonel is the most experienced TL in our team.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv said, “But in our last all-hands meeting they talked of rewarding talent and not experience.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“That’s nonsense. We’re like any other industry – experience matters like everywhere else.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“So the Colonel will get promoted?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“No. He’s quitting. That’s the rumour.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“But why quit if he’s in line for promotion?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“He’s not first in line. He has experience but he’s the disciplinarian. Who do you think will support him? He can’t adjust with nonsense. So he’s quitting.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv was not convinced but he knew that was the only explanation. He summarised, “One TL eliminated, so it’s Vignesh versus Karthick.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Sir Karthick is the clear winner.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv liked both of them; Karthick recruited him and Vignesh was a good friend and guide. He didn’t like people teasing Karthick by using the Sir prefix. “But Vignesh adjusts with people really well. And he is the same experience.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“No, he has more.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“So why can’t he be the chosen one?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“That’s where there’s another twist. What you expect is not what happens. You need talent.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Vignesh doesn’t have talent? He’s very good.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Everyone was enjoying the conversation between the experienced Gokul, a Senior Software Engineer (SSE), and the naive Merv, an Associate Software Engineer (ASE).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Very good maybe technically. Who do you think is more visible to senior management?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Karthick,” Merv replied without second thoughts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“There’s your man. The one and only Sir Karthick.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Merv found it hard to digest that visibility was the differentiating factor. He himself was due for a promotion this time; and he wondered about visibility.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gokul reassured him, "Don't worry about your case. ASE to SE is based only on experience. You will surely get it. After SSE is when you need talent." He laughed when he said the word talent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Vignesh bunked office for the rest of the day before lunch. “I’m not feeling well. Head is hurting badly,” he lied to his manager.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It triggered a mini-debate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“What about the status call today?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“It’s not today. It’s on Monday.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Oh. What about the deliverable you have?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Today’s deliverable Gokul is doing.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Only when I ask for a vacation will he care about what I’m working on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“What about the presentation deck?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“I’ve sent it already.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“And the metrics report is pending? Have you finished it? We need it for the all-hands meeting.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Uh; finally he found something to torture me. Damn; he will start his lecture.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“I’ll send it on Monday.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“But that is very important. Using your data only can I complete the report for our team. So you need to do ….”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>The report is pending for long but only now when I ask for a leave does he remember it.</i></span></div>
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<a href="http://sstutor.blogspot.com/2019/01/corporate-politricks-3-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Next episode</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-17784132183549090912018-12-30T16:21:00.001+05:302019-01-03T07:43:31.281+05:30Corporate Politricks - 1 (chapter 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I'm publishing a novel (Corporate Politricks) in the form of short episodes daily in this blog - should take about 5 minutes reading time. Just experimenting with this form. I promise not to drag this out into a mega-serial! Will post 1 episode a day (by 8am Indian Standard Time/2:30am GMT) and we should be done soon. For those of you who dread the thought of reading a book, perhaps this format feels more convenient. The novel doesn't have too many characters; from the 2nd episode I'll list the characters at the top so that you don't need to dig around to recollect who was what.</span><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<b style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Note:</b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Feel free to share this for non-commercial purposes. For commercial purposes (my wishful thinking!), reach out to me via email.</span><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">You can reach me at:</span> <a href="mailto:sstutor@gmail.com" target="_blank">sstutor@gmail.com </a></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Chapter 1 - Who is the one?</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">THE PRESENT</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">While Vignesh was winding up for the day, he received a strange email from their client asking for a quick call immediately.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Hiya Vignesh. Goood evenin.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Good morning Bob.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Surry for the late request and keeping you up late. I wanted to inform you first before sending the meeting invite.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Ok.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“We are reviewing our security protocols. I wanted you in the loop.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Vignesh found it odd that the client wanted to discuss security with him; why didn’t Bob approach the manager?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“This will be late night for you but do attend the meeting. Come in late. It runs our noon time. I have forwarded you the meeting invite now.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In India that was midnight but Vignesh didn’t mind. Lately he was spending most of his days and even nights in office.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Sure.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Vignesh thought Bob had disconnected but he suddenly heard him say, “There’s been a breach.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It took a while to sink in. He recollected hearing about security protocols a few months ago from his manager; it was a day and a weekend that he couldn't forget because that’s when his misery began.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b> THE PAST</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The manager drew an imaginary triangle in the air. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Unfortunately we need to be within the pyramid structure. The industry is not like ten years ago.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today was Vignesh’s sixth year in the IT industry and third in MegaSoft Solutions. He asked surprised, “So I won’t get promoted this time?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">His manager spontaneously replied, “Yes.” He then realised his mistake and added, “Promotions are not easy.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Always show a way, never show a dead-end.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The manager could easily have passed off as someone two grades higher; his large body frame and patches of hair gave him the air of authority.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“I have the experience.” </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Vignesh was shocked. Till now he assumed that he was going to get promoted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Yes. Maybe,” the manager paused as if he were counting the years of Vignesh’s experience. “But there are others also.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Is he referring to the army Colonel? But even then they could promote another person. Or was it Sir Karthick they were considering? But that’s not possible; surely it’s not him.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“What’s my career path?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“You need to perform the higher role. Create an impact at higher levels; be visible. They need to know who Vicky is. Go out of the box; think innovation; creativity; own the system. I can’t keep telling how it’s to be done. You should find out.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Vignesh hated being called Vicky as if he were his boss’ pet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Visibility was a term the manager heard often and he passed it on to his team. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>When in tough conversations, use jargon.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“So I won’t get promoted now.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It wasn’t a question but his manager felt that it was and responded, “Don’t focus on the short term Vicky. Becoming a PL now or a few months later won’t make a difference in the long run. You’re doing great work. Great work on the regional stock exchange project.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">PL was the Project Lead designation. Vignesh never worked on the regional stock exchange project. He shook his head without saying anything; at least his boss believed he had done great work in some project.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Along with great work create visibility. There are many ways to do it. The Art of War says that though we have only a few notes in music, we still have so many tunes. You have to find your tune,” his manager advised.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Art of War was their CEO’s favourite book and everyone in senior management quoted </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and misquoted it whenever they had an opportunity. Vignesh had read about their CEO’s interview in a magazine; he had quit his job in his sixth year and started MegaSoft Solutions from home. The CEO encouraged the readers to follow their dreams. Vignesh was also in his sixth year and for the time being there were only two dreams for him: promotion from Team Lead to PL and clearing the home loan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Anything else Vicky?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“No.” The way one of his dreams was headed was clear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“I forgot to ask you Vicky. Did you hear anything from Bob or anyone on the client side about security protocols?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“No.”</span></div>
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<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">The regional stock exchange project! Damn, he doesn’t even know what I do.</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Vignesh returned to his cubicle which could accommodate four people. A few minutes later Sir Karthick proudly walked to the prestigious last row single-seater cubicle beside the window. Many people envied these seats because of privacy; you could browse any website, do personal work, admire celebrity pictures but never get caught embarrassed. Vignesh was infuriated on seeing Sir Karthick.</span><br />
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<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I slog and he will get promoted. Damn.</i><br />
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<a href="http://sstutor.blogspot.com/2018/12/corporate-politricks-2-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">Next episode</a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://sstutor.blogspot.com/2018/12/corporate-politricks-2-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-17477165996736515382016-04-02T16:33:00.001+05:302016-04-02T16:33:38.505+05:30Poem - Universal love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It all starts with our self,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we keep on feeding our desire,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">get all that we can for oneself,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">never stop even after we retire.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If we tell someone i love you,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we expect a reply i love you too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now other than self we love one more,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and we live with family as our core.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our desires expand to include them,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and for them we also devise stratagem.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We then identify with our community,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and then go beyond to feel for country.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Self, family, community, country, humanity</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">varying from high to low in egocentricity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we love to the right, our ego we shed,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but many are stuck on materialism instead.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When will we go beyond our selfish confine?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When will we avoid using boundary to define?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When will we let go of our partiality?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And let love flow to all selfless in purity.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-11718214627364816642015-12-06T13:27:00.000+05:302016-01-01T15:49:01.233+05:30The Chennai floods - 2nd life...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1"><b>The crazy Tuesday</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">I woke up disturbed by the sound of commotion outside my apartment. As had become practice for the last few hours, the first thing I did was to take a look at the water level on the road. I switched on the torch and strained to see the road through my netted window. It was a surprise and then a shock. The footpath was not to be seen; on looking closer I saw water in our parking area; it had touched the bottom axle of the tyres. And my home was in the ground floor, about 3 feet higher. Without power for 9 hours, we had gone to bed at 8pm itself and at that time the level was below the footpath outside and it had stayed fairly constant at that level for a long while; now within 3 hours it had shot up by a feet.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The neighbours were chatting about the problem in Saidapet.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i>“The bridge has broken.”</i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i>“A water line has burst there and is flooding the place. </i></span><i>The water is flowing through our area. It’s coming from the overflowing lake.”</i></div>
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<span class="s1">About 15 minutes later I inspected the level; my reference point was the car tyre; my mind felt it had gone up but I calmed myself saying that it was probably because of some ripples that were flowing across. 15 minutes later, my doubts were erased - the water was definitely rising. This was the first time water had breached our complex which was built on a slightly elevated platform.</span></div>
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This had become a crazy day for me; in the morning I was reaching out to office folks to check their state and coordinate for help and information in case they were stranded. And now I was also stranded and cut off.</div>
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<span class="s1"><b>Is this the end?</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">At about midnight we dispersed since there was nothing we could do. I could hardly catch any sleep - my mind was calculating how fast the water was rising and how long it would take to enter our home; about 6am was my guess. No power, inverter would last for a short while and I was conserving it for night for my mom, no mobile connectivity, deluge of water all around (street had about 4 feet of water).</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I decided to monitor the level whenever i woke up - which was pretty much every 30 to 60 minutes. At 2am I felt the pace had perhaps slowed a little and it would take a little longer to breach our home; ETA 8am.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I used a little bit of the inverter to watch the news on TV; and it was frightening - homes were flooded with water. Even when we used to have water only at the street level, I knew there were many places that got badly hit; with the current level in my place, the news confirmed that the levels reached elsewhere were life threatening. They announced that the airport was shut for 5 days. The headlines read “<i>City of 5 million stranded</i>”. Your heart aches when you see such images.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">At 3am lying in bed, worried to hear the intensity of rain picking up, I wondered if this may be the end. The army was rescuing people in the city but how many people could they save? They were also going to be limited in resources and people. At least we had 3 floors above that we could move up to; but thousands wouldn’t have the luxury. And if nature wanted, it could keep the rains continuing and wipe the city.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">At 4am the water had crossed the first step; another 3 steps or one more foot of water and it would be in our home. I recollected all the things I would have to pack up for evacuation.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">During the night I heard a lady in the opposite bungalow calling out to her mom to come up to the top floor; theirs was a two storey home. It was painful to hear the worried voice - and there was nothing anyone could do since to reach their home we had to cross the street and that was almost impossible. All I could see was a candle, and I hoped that the old lady had reached upstairs safely.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>All of life in a suitcase</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">At 5:30am, with some trace of daylight I got busy in action - the water had gone up a little but only by a few centimetres - it had slowed in the last hour for sure; at this rate ETA was surely after 8am. I plucked all documents and dumped them into a suitcase; and also packed a smaller bag with few clothes. At around 7am, one of the uncles said that the water has been at the same level since 4am. I wasn’t so sure but at 8am it definitely hadn’t risen any further. We spoke with our neighbours in the first floor and they told us to come over whenever needed; and in turn they also packed their important documents in case things went further downhill.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Finally all these years had come down to one suitcase! And I knew that if the situation went to a life or death case, even that suitcase wouldn’t matter. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Fortunately, the water level didn’t rise after that. In fact we saw it go down a couple of centimetres; not much but it did give some room for safety and assurance.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The landline surprisingly worked - and i tried calling folks in the city; most were unreachable but one person said his place was ok and he kept me updated about the news. I heard from a person living outside the country that the forecast predicted rain for another week! The city wouldn’t hold up for another week of this.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The strength of the flood even displaced cars that were parked on the road by a few metres.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>How long can you survive?</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">With the threat of our home flooding low, next worry was about supplies. Do we have enough to last this out - we had no idea how long it would take for the water to recede. There was no way we could drive; no way we could walk with elderly people through chest high water. I remember reading that we could live without food for 2 or 3 weeks but without water it was only 3 days.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">We rationed the food we had – survived on dosa and idli for which we fortunately had some extra batter left and which even without the fridge didn’t get spoilt. We had stock of rice and lentils and some potatoes – food wasn't going to be an issue. Water was - all the homes in our complex had water for about a couple of days. We used edibles like oranges and tomatoes - I assumed that would help with getting some nutrients and satiate thirst.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">When I heard from a colleague staying in a nearby hotel that the hotel told their residents to leave because they could only provide food and water for 2 days it was worrying; if they couldn’t get supplies where would we?</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I spent the daytime reading a survival pocket guide which I had bought many years ago. It was written by a SAS (Special Air Forces) agent; part of their training and role requires them to survive in extreme hostile conditions - floods, hurricanes, forests etc.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The guide read…</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i>“Do not venture out in floods if you have provision to go to higher ground. Do not stop rationing of supplies till you get supplies replenished. Do not use salt water or urine for drinking even after boiling them. They can be consumed if you distill. Boil rain water and consume. Do not use flood water because sewage will exist.”</i></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">For some reason I had never thought of rain water till then; with rains lashing us and with us having enough gas to run the stove, that seemed a good option. And that’s what we did on day 3. We even opened our overhead tanks to fill up rain water; used buckets to get a few and supply them to homes in our complex.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
Quite a situation - the city was flooded by water and yet no water to drink; an elderly man in our place said, "We have to go back to the old days; build wells that we can use."</div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">We lived in darkness for about 4 days. There were people from low lying areas who were trying to migrate to higher ground; we heard some neighbouring roads were clear of water. It was a painful sight - an elderly man carrying a suitcase on his head and holding his wife by the other hand wading through hip high waters; we tried helping some as they passed by. But being ourselves down on supply there was only little we could do.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b>Partial return to normalcy</b></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Late in day 3 the rains had become scattered and few - but those few bursts were frightening because they struck with intense force; on day 3 a few folks ventured out for supplies in an SUV - they got a couple of drinking water bottles for their homes; a few small shops were open 3 or 4 kms away; at least the milk was being sold at normal rates in this area - i heard that in some places they charged 4 times the money for it. Vegetables were expensive - about 5 to 10 times more expensive than normal. ATMs were out of money and supplies in supermarkets I heard ran out quickly. Petrol bunks that happened to open were flooded with people filling fuel in cans and bottles. A lot of this would have been due to fear and wanting to stock up on supplies. </span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">A few kilometres away there was still seven feet of water on the main road; people were dumping spoilt supplies (rice, lentils etc.) and damaged electronics and furniture in the water. Dead cattle was floating around and even one dead person was floating.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Towards end of day 4 power was restored and we began to get back to normalcy; shops still shut but at least with power we could get drinking water at home; water logging had gone down to ankle height. Few people did leave the city of day 3 since cars could ply certain roads. Some neighbouring roads are still in hip deep water.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">We were among those very fortunate and privileged. </span>So many lives had been lost, homes swept away, sewage flooding homes, property bought after years of hard work damaged and washed away. And there were more sad stories of few folks who tried rescuing people getting engulfed by the flood.</div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">One person on television said,<i> “<b>It is like a second birth for me.</b>”</i></span></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;">He said it from the standpoint of materials he lost; but there is a lot more meaning in that statement.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-30989436074346896172015-10-31T13:39:00.001+05:302015-10-31T13:39:20.701+05:30India travelogue 14 - The end<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Birla Mandir</b> (the name outside will say Shri Vishwanath Mandir) - Called
Birla temple because it was built by the Birla industries group. This is
inside the Benaras Hindu University (BHU); a large sprawling campus with
a lot of greenery. The minute we entered the campus I could feel a cool
breeze; the effect of greenery. The temple is made of marble; it is a
Shiva temple and built based on the famous Vishwanath temple in
Varanasi. At the centre is a Shiva lingam. The temple is very spacious;
along the walls are plenty of inscriptions - in Hindi and some in
English. I read through the English ones - quotations from the Gita and
Vedas. Some were quotations from the Dhammapada (a collection of quotes
by the Buddha and another scripture in Buddhism). They had some quotes
about God being one, about desires, about the mind, about emotions etc.
Very neatly kept place and was great walking around reading the
scriptures. They have a nice outdoor area as well. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpm_T9c0cqSCGWtHrJBX_EUMF9pkEwVok0Pq0kNIjnXP0hpgJcOPFQjCOm-scaxMkwkUq8pk_uao1JgyB9LCp26TfQ70YIQmYJiFZACljyDt4JO5XBT1JBjApLQPdp1cdSuVKFA/s1600/IMG_0269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpm_T9c0cqSCGWtHrJBX_EUMF9pkEwVok0Pq0kNIjnXP0hpgJcOPFQjCOm-scaxMkwkUq8pk_uao1JgyB9LCp26TfQ70YIQmYJiFZACljyDt4JO5XBT1JBjApLQPdp1cdSuVKFA/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next day I was up at 4am; 30 minutes before my alarm time. I wanted to
walk to Assi Ghat to see the early morning Ganga aarti (puja). I wasn’t
sure at what time it exactly was but I started from my place at 4:30am.
I planned to walk the 2.5 kms by trusting Google Maps. At this hour there was
no sign of daylight; the streets were dark and deserted. A few tea shops
had started preparing tea for early risers; good business idea because
they had barely any competition. Along the way I saw a couple of cops;
there were many positioned all over the city. I got to see the
sun rise in Assi Ghat; the aarti here is a smaller version of the
evening aarti. Not many people, not crowded, pleasant to see the Ganga
river at this early morning hour (a pleasing clear blue) with the sun
rising in the background. Great sight to behold.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This early morning aarti is to provide a platform for upcoming singers
and performers; and also to encourage early morning exercise. I stayed
on till about 7am; after that was the carnatic music and then I guessed
there would be some yoga happening. On the way back I saw a government
park and went inside; this was very shabby but there were still people
exercising and walking. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That concluded my short visit to Varanasi – wonderful city to
experience; a city where you will surely reflect on life; one of the few
places where you get to see so many funerals happening at one spot. The
city is supposed to be good for sweets and snacks as well but I didn’t
have the opportunity to try any of the local food. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Return journey</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bDRa_agwd313D2WPL8XwvLRNW3xZZbx1NfUw9EBdiwf-6qj2Ix4OcSypiE_H3czmtIluzvqigWuACeXst_GlawRIc6o9aLPH-80Ws9JIU5aCdspymSEv3rDrcTKbwrG_-ZXNEw/s1600/IMG_0278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bDRa_agwd313D2WPL8XwvLRNW3xZZbx1NfUw9EBdiwf-6qj2Ix4OcSypiE_H3czmtIluzvqigWuACeXst_GlawRIc6o9aLPH-80Ws9JIU5aCdspymSEv3rDrcTKbwrG_-ZXNEw/s320/IMG_0278.JPG" width="239" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The New Delhi airport is classy unlike the airport I had used on my trip
heading to Varanasi. This one looks like the Singapore airport - not yet
having all the amenities but the carpet floors and infrastructure is
very similar.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What happened in my return flight will likely sound cliche but it did
happen. There was this father with his two young sons sitting behind me
who got into a minor argument with the air hostess. The air hostess
said, “You should have told me earlier.” And the father said, “That’s
what my son tried to tell you before but you didn’t even listen to him.” </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was finally resolved but all through the journey you would hear the
other son exclaiming about something. From their conversation I learnt
that they had travelled to Singapore and Malaysia; and perhaps they were
settled in one of those two countries as well. When you hear someone who
has been outside India get excited over things during the flight you
kind of find it surprising. If it’s a first time travel it is
understandable but this seemed to be over the top; and the boy would
have been around 16 years – so not too small either like a child. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we stepped off the flight, I felt bad for the thoughts that I had
earlier. The boy was being carried down the steps by two flight
attendants and gently placed on a wheelchair. The boy was paralysed
below his hip. Inspite of the odds, the boys had just been enjoying the
flight with enthusiasm and his dad was patiently answering every
question he had. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I observed the cheerful boy's face I wondered, <i>'What’s wrong in enjoying every moment to the fullest
extent? What’s wrong even if it is something we’ve experienced before?'</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">) </span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-43492647311988164632015-10-17T21:15:00.001+05:302015-10-17T21:20:49.667+05:30India travelogue 13 - The temple tour<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I returned to the Deer park and spent some time in the hall where the golden Buddha was seated. Four monks arrived and sat facing the Buddha. They started chanting something and I couldn't get the words. Before I started, folks said it would take an hour to cover Sarnath and that's what the auto driver estimated and that's what the tour guide said it will take. But I had already spen</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">t 2 hours here! And if I had more time, I would have actually sat down in the hall and penned my thoughts and also observed the monks. </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibLQeqAuymIeu6a0ameUfHz-tf3GNCBv69qXwbyOuTXzlQcAvBEmhbRJ0GzOkztAzCCAfVr5MsGPwJTzcSPM5mD0SiftXukX5UsjJ0Bw1B_gpmlVaJ89Vd7abhUYm7m3J442wHzA/s1600/IMG_0260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibLQeqAuymIeu6a0ameUfHz-tf3GNCBv69qXwbyOuTXzlQcAvBEmhbRJ0GzOkztAzCCAfVr5MsGPwJTzcSPM5mD0SiftXukX5UsjJ0Bw1B_gpmlVaJ89Vd7abhUYm7m3J442wHzA/s320/IMG_0260.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I stepped outside the hall, my auto driver saw me.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Babuji, saw everything?"</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Yes. I was just coming back."</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I was wondering what happened. So long. I thought you disappeared. That's why I came searching."</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I laughed and got into the auto. I was glad that I did make it to Sarnath; for those who aren't interested in religion or philosophy this place would be boring. But if you are into either then there will be something here that you might enjoy - surely at least the peaceful Buddha!</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2MAu3Ys0HlULpIaeBtWVNVdqPENW2M7xb1_daPbB9M_2wDBqSowOOiNYhkDdp1-igvFxD0bU0GGV9F71heVxPiwXAd6TYM542LIWHBhstYFoovNYwP-nzFpnUosoEZEdehAO3hQ/s1600/IMG_0259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2MAu3Ys0HlULpIaeBtWVNVdqPENW2M7xb1_daPbB9M_2wDBqSowOOiNYhkDdp1-igvFxD0bU0GGV9F71heVxPiwXAd6TYM542LIWHBhstYFoovNYwP-nzFpnUosoEZEdehAO3hQ/s320/IMG_0259.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nearby was a Japanese temple where the driver stopped and told me to take a look; this was outside the package of 7 temples that he promised to show me. The temple was a single building in distinct oriental style; inside the hall was a wooden Buddha lying down on his side. And there was an inscription that read ‘<b>Na Mu Myo Ho Ren Ge Kyo</b>’ - it means ‘Devotion to the Mystic Law of the Lotus Sutra’. The Lotus Sutra is a scripture in Buddhism. No crowd here; just the person who takes care of the place.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We then went to the 7 temples within the city. Some are special and I shall just mention about them.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>KalBhairava</b> - a temple for the fierce form of Shiva; the same one for whom there was a statue in the museum killing a demon. Apparently the God Brahma had ego and Shiva created this form to deal with that. You feel surprised reading about Gods showing anger and ego - all related to desire.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I walked into the street leading to the temple and wondered where to leave my slippers; there was one instance back home where I lost an old pair of shoes when I left it outside the temple and since then I’ve always been skeptical about leaving footwear unguarded. Having no choice, I left it outside the temple entrance near a pile of slippers. </span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This temple is an extremely small temple with a central section where we have Bhairava; there is a corridor that runs around the central section where you will see swamis sitting with a lot of things like holy black strings, pictures, bells hanging from the ceiling etc. Everything inside the temple was painted orange in colour (pillars and walls). There’s a lot of sound inside and a lot of crowd packed in the small room. It is quite a sight; I had barely walked a few yards and I was drenched in sweat. So many people!</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Sankat Mochan</b> - there were plenty of monkeys on either side of the carpet that leads us to the temple. Adult monkeys and baby monkeys running around; some even stepping on the carpet. One was playing with a yoyo and two were eating nuts. Some kids were scared and clung to their parents as they entered the temple! This temple is for Hanuman; quite apt having so many monkeys around. Inside the temple is a large sweet shop; speciality seemed to be laddus. Pretty much everyone was buying a small sweet box and then waiting for the pooja to start. Some were sitting and reading from a booklet; I noticed many similar booklets stacked in racks. On closer look I learnt that they were a part of the epic Ramayana. Many people also wrote the name 'Ram' in Hindi on top of a metal grill that already had many 'Ram's.</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">) </span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-13191252007288448112015-10-10T15:05:00.004+05:302015-10-10T15:05:50.047+05:30India travelogue 12 - The enlightenment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The museum welcomes you with Ashoka's lion, an explanation about the number 32 (the number of spokes and its link to Buddhism), the significance of the 4 animals on the pillar (horse, elephant, bull and lion) etc.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Gods and emotions</b></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were two galleries I liked - one with exhibits from temples in the past and the other with Buddha related exhibits/carvings. The other galleries had things like items used during those years by people etc. - not my interest and I skimmed through them quickly. The gallery on Gods focussed on Shiva, Brahma and Vishnu. Interesting point mentioned was that though Brahma is considered the creator of the world there are very few temples in India for Brahma! Shiva in his different forms was there - the one like Bhairava was an impressive structure (Bhairava chopped one head of Brahma in anger and that's why Brahma has 4 instead of 5 heads). There was a huge unfinished structure of Shiva with 10 hands killing a demon; in one of his hands he held a bowl below because he didn't want any drop of the demon's blood to touch the Earth (else another demon would arise).</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I read about Shiva in anger I was reminded of the money incident in the temple; our Gods are also portrayed to show emotions like anger. There was one statute about Kama - the god of love who is present in the breeze. That was something new to me; he was destroyed by Shiva and later allowed to take the form of breeze.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In each gallery there was a silent staff observing the crowd - just like you had in museums around the world. The gallery on Buddha had a statue of Buddha preaching at Sarnath. I couldn't sit and admire the statue because of two foreign tourists who were listening to their Indian guide narrating a story.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>What is the truth?</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I overhead his story - it was the story of Gautama Buddha from his childhood onwards. I knew the story - born a prince, pampered by dad, protected by dad, married and had a kid, went on a tour of the city, witnesses what life really is outside the palace, leaves home in search of the truth, finds friends who were in a similar quest, goes to teachers in the hope of learning but ultimately left on his own, gives up worldly desires in the quest for truth, becomes famished and weak, offered food by a lady who saw him, accepts it, friends believe he has given up his quest and abandon him. At this point I was curious as to what the guide would say because this was the stage of enlightenment; Buddha had found the truth. <i>What was the truth?</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the guide said, "That is when the Buddha found enlightenment. He was sitting under a Banyan tree; you know Banyan tree - all the branches hanging down."</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Yes yes," the ladies echoed in unison.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"He found the truth.”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That sounded a bit of an anti-climax!</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He continued, “He lived both extremes - with plenty of riches and then with nothing; he experienced both states and realised that the ideal path lies in the middle. The path of the middle."</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dCn7WmJJMKnphSXkzxFoDlzgNRJN6n4R9pPj1kUXlx788CHU1hhbvsCT5iPEvejHU8qp0m8TK_mMx8fxd1ejjBf3icKadhmH8pPJt40IYMdWM5oev1yPYKuJZJX6UyQ7mO24Dg/s1600/IMG_0252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dCn7WmJJMKnphSXkzxFoDlzgNRJN6n4R9pPj1kUXlx788CHU1hhbvsCT5iPEvejHU8qp0m8TK_mMx8fxd1ejjBf3icKadhmH8pPJt40IYMdWM5oev1yPYKuJZJX6UyQ7mO24Dg/s400/IMG_0252.JPG" width="298" /></a><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then he continued with the rest of the story as we know it; his friends come back; his father himself listens to the enlightened Buddha and then the story goes till his death. The part about Mara (desire) wasn't mentioned. Neither were the mudras (significance of hand gestures). I finally left the hall and in the neighbouring gallery saw a group of about 10 Chinese tourists. And guess what - they had an Indian guide who was talking fluent Chinese; he was even able to answer some question that they asked in Chinese - wow; quite impressive.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I then headed outdoors to the massive Stupa - it was part of an excavated area under the Archaeological Society of India. There were spots marked were there used to be temples and monasteries. They no longer existed but the Stupa was there. It was impressive - wonder how they built this massive structure back then. Again very well maintained place; and again some couples were romancing under the shade of trees. There were a few monks who came in their traditional dark brown robes to the site - this must be a special place for them; to come to the place where the Buddha once lived. I guessed that these monks were probably from the Tibetan temple nearby.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">) </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-67965419421181066332015-09-18T23:27:00.000+05:302015-09-19T07:13:28.820+05:30India Travelogue 11 - non-vegetarian?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I headed back to my room and let the cool water pass over my feet; ah, it was relaxing after getting burnt by the hot ground. The folks in the trust advised me to take a package for Rs.700 that would cover Sarnath and 6 temples in Varanasi rather than doing a trip to Sarnath alone which would anyway be just as expensive.</div>
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<b>Still like non-veg food?</b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sarnath which was about 10kms away. Autos use shortcuts which are very bumpy and in some cases the main roads are also just as bad. You will get tossed up and down frequently so unless your back is in good shape don't do an auto travel. The driver flew through side streets; and when you least expect it, he would take a sharp turn into a lane that you would think can’t accommodate a two-wheeler! He sure was a professional because at no point in the journey did the vehicle touch any other object on the road. There was plenty of honking that was jarring to the ear.</div>
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Along the way there was only one meat shop that I saw; they had a stack of cages with helpless chicken imprisoned. I think that is one sight which would make a person give up enjoying non-veg food; the small birds, aware or unaware of their fate, were cackling; it was only a matter of time before they would be slaughtered. Uh, you feel sad for them when you think of whom they are going to get slaughtered for.<br />
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There were no skyscrapers to be seen in Varanasi; most buildings were only 3 floors high. The heat was blazing; it was 2pm. As the auto flew, hot gusts of wind hit my face. It burns your skin. Even my auto driver was wearing a towel covering his head and a part of his face. As he went over the bumps I wondered if he cared about his auto; there were so many stones of varying sizes that I would be worried about getting my vehicle punctured as well as damaging suspension. He didn't seem to care; he was racing along at top speed. Even though we were bumping, I dozed off!</div>
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<b>The city of Sarnath</b></div>
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When I woke up I struggled to read the boards on shops - their address said Sarnath. Soon the auto halted under the shade of a tree. "Babuji, this is Sarnath. Go around and see what you want."</div>
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Before I could step out, one local guy came to me and said he will show me around the place. "Only Rs.50 sir. It will take one hour. I can give you detailed explanation for what you see."</div>
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"No, I don't need it."</div>
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"Without explanation you will simply see but not know what they are. I will tell importance of everything and history."</div>
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"No. Thanks."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He pestered me a lot. "Rs.40 also is ok Sir."</div>
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"No."</div>
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<br /></div>
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After declining politely 10 times he finally backed off. First stop was the Deer park. Quotes by Buddha were written on boards. The park was well maintained. Trees in plenty, grass trimmed and place was clean. And there were a few couples enjoying their time - either the guy or the girl would be lying on the other person’s lap.</div>
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<b>Peace</b></div>
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The first building in the park was a hall. It had a golden Buddha on one end. On the walls there were paintings of the life of Buddha; everything inside was beautiful - Buddha's birth, his leaving home, his famished state in the forest when a lady offered him food, his victory over Mara (desire) and his death. I've told this many times before - whenever you see the statue of Buddha in a quiet room, you kind of feel calm and relaxed. You feel like wanting to sit there in calmness beside the huge statue. Same was the case in Thailand, same the case in Canada and same the case in Sarnath. Sarnath is special in Buddhism because after Buddha’s enlightenment this was the first place where he delivered a lecture.</div>
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Next stop was the Archaeological museum; Rs.5 for the entrance ticket. Bags underwent an x-ray screening before you could drop them in the free locker facility. I had jumped into the museum at the right time; the museum was fully air conditioned and helped me beat the heat. Very well maintained again. And quite a good museum - well-kept exhibits and even some information about each of them. They had a few digital systems like ATM machines where you could read about each section of the gallery.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px;">) </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-71707709386864749612015-08-19T15:02:00.000+05:302015-08-19T15:09:18.842+05:30India Travelogue 10 - Wear footwear!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1">Sunday morning (Day 2) I was clear with objectives - I would plan for the day after completing the main ceremony for which I had come to Varanasi. Before that my cousin who was here on her wedding anniversary took me down for an aarti that happened everyday within our building itself. There was a small Siva's temple inside - not exactly inside but kind of attached to the building we stayed in. And guess who joined the priest after a while; one of the junior priests from yesterday night! Seemed like most of them had their food from the same place as us and they also performed the pooja here. He didn’t ask anyone for money over here.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Around 9:30am, I was told that I could go to see the priest. One of the boys working in the trust led the way. I didn’t wear slippers since anyway for the ceremony I won't be wearing it and we would be traveling to the place by a rickshaw or auto. I dressed in a t-shirt and dhoti; I didn’t have a belt and hoped that the dhoti would stay.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">We took an auto that dashed through side lanes and took us to a Ghat. The network of lanes is quite amazing. We walked a few metres and then my companion said, "Looks like iyer is not here. He has gone home."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">It was 10am and the Ghat was kind of deserted. We walked through narrow streets and I got a friendly pat by a couple of cows who were flipping their tails. Finally reached his home. There was already one pooja in process and mine was the next. About 45 minutes was what it took; some words to be repeated, some sentences to be said and some pindams we made for my ancestors. Today was amavasya (full moon day) and that is considered very auspicious. In Varanasi, when they do this ceremony they do it recollecting 3 generations of ancestors on the mother’s and father’s side and even consider close friends or teachers who have passed away; the ritual is performed to cover all of them as well as anyone who passed away but didn't have a successor; in which case no one would have performed the ritual for them and so my doing it would cover for them as well. I guess it was all about closure and reflection.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">"Do you usually do this on the Ganga?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"Yes. We can even do it on a boat in the Ganga. But in this heat no one can sit there."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">After the function was over, he told me to immerse the contents of the plate in the Ganga excluding the dharba (special grass) which had to be cleaned and returned with the plate. It was about 11pm when a boy known to the priest led me to the Ganga. As I went barefoot, I knew why everyone wore slippers. The ground was too hot when the Sun was out. As we neared the Ganga, my foot was burning. There was hardly any shade on the way where I could get respite. Even on the Ghat there was no shade in sight; just concrete steps which were scorching hot. I was ready to plunge my feet into the Ganga. Fortunately on the river bank, because of the boats there were areas which were in the shade of the boats and those were very soothing. After emptying the contents in the river we went back up the stairs.</span></div>
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"There's the electric furnace," he showed me the building. He also said that it is only one of the two Ghats were bodies can be burnt.</div>
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<span class="s1">I desperately made use of any shaded areas, I put my foot in places where there was water since it felt cool and at one point I wondered about whether cow dung would be cool or hot on the ground! Fortunately I didn't have to experiment since the guy got me a rickshaw soon.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"Rs.20 you can give him when you get down."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The rickshaw driver was a very old man with thick circular black glasses. He was extremely lean and dark. I felt sorry for him; at this age he was manually toiling. I had shade but he was under the mid day sun. Was he doing so for earning a living or was he doing so because he was bored at home? I paid him a little extra though he never asked for anything extra.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-77059662934218069272015-08-02T11:46:00.000+05:302015-08-19T15:09:28.577+05:30India travelogue 9 - Priests & desire?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1">The senior priest who had been advising us earlier told my friend that the priests performing this special function (abhishekam) will say that this is worth Rs.1000 or 2000; he told to give only Rs.100 per person at the most. Ah, money again!</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">We stayed and watched; crowds thronged behind us to watch the ceremony. </span>It was late in the night, about 9:30pm was my guess and still crowded.</div>
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<span class="s1">The very young priests (who were probably just 18 or 20) assisting the seniors in the function were having some fun of their own while chanting. They tried to outdo one another’s voice and style; and this brought a smile on the faces of the senior priests - some internal competition I guess. There was a cot that was brought in during the function; it was taken inside the shrine from our side and for that we had to stand. As soon as the cot went in, the crowd tried to push us aside to take our positions but we resisted. I didn't know why in temples people felt that standing one feet closer would make a difference; if they had been polite I wouldn’t have cared - but when someone tries to rough you up to gain advantage, you will surely resist.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">At the end of the function, the priest came with a lamp. We did the usual process and at that time the priest put a garland on my friend. I was behind him and caught the eye of the senior priest who gestured me to get out from the place. I slipped away and returned to our original place. On the way, one of the temple guys came with a bowl of sweets. He put some in my hand and then asked for money. I smiled and walked away. Money again; ah!</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">I was certain that since my friend hadn't returned, he was caught for money by the abhishekam priests. He joined me a few minutes later and the look on his face confirmed my suspicion.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The senior priest gave us another sweet and sacred ash and asked, "Are you happy? Are you content fully?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"Yes."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"Good." And he gave us all a garland each and waited.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">These awkward moments of silence means just one thing - money! Oh boy... when we left the temple one of the younger priests stopped us. For what else but hoping for money! Oh boy...</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b>How much money is enough?</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The first time when we were mobbed by the priests for money, I felt angry. But now as I left the temple I was laughing. I was happy that I didn't give in to every priest who asked for money but my laughter wasn't because of that victory.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">My friend commented, "This is the first time I'm seeing priests asking for so much money. Minimum 100!"</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"I have never seen anyone demand money inside a temple. They never force you like this."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"It's there in some places but not like this. No matter how much money we give they will not be happy.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">And that was the reason for my laughter. You have these priests who are living in a spiritual place; who have probably read more holy scriptures than many of us, who would have had teachers explain the scriptures to them, who recite and chant verses from the scriptures everyday.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I'm not saying it's wrong for them to ask for money but the manner of doing it; trying to force you into giving; it made it seem like they were desperate for the money. And what is money but yet another worldly desire; a desire like any other that will never be satisfied no matter how much you get. A desire that if you keep chasing you will probably lose yourself in the process; the scriptures talk about crossing the barrier of desire. Some say that the devil is nothing but desire - even in other religions it is said so. And isn't it an irony; when you see the very people who would be very knowledgeable in all this, craving for money? These people breathing majority of their life in a holy place were finding it hard; how much harder for others then? An insatiable fire.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">We saw at least 4 teams of police cops on our way out; they were all stationed for the temple. We landed somewhere on the other side of the street; Hindi again helping us find the route out and the route back home. The roads were empty at this hour; it must have been around 10pm. We were the only ones barefoot on the main road.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-26383752566312014022015-07-26T16:42:00.001+05:302015-07-26T16:49:54.931+05:30India travelogue 8 - Temples, money & anger<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1">After some criss-crossing inside the temple, we reached the area of the priests. Again we showed the pass and they took a count. About 5 priests were sitting together chit chatting on a bench. Beside them on the right was a small lingam of Shiva and the cow Nandi. People made some offerings there, prayed and moved along. Beside that was a small room inside which was the idol of a God; not everyone gets to enter the room but since we had a pass we could. I now knew the significance of the pass.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I pretty much followed by friend; he was a young priest in a temple in Tamil Nadu and he seemed to know what had to be done where.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Within the temple there were many small shrines. There were a few cops concentrated around one enclosure doing crowd control (that appeared to be the main place in this temple). They were shouting, "Move, move. If you take so much time do you expect others to wait the whole night?”</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">When we stepped out of the first shrine, we saw a priest carrying some large object in his hand - it seemed to be made of stainless steel with a lengthy handle on the centre surrounded by four small open vessels on the base. He came close to my friend; when we peered inside the container we saw a lamp and some vibhuti (sacred ash). It also had a couple of Rs.10 notes near the lamp. By default when you have a lamp in the hands of a priest in a temple, you put your hands together near the flame and keep it on your eyes - like taking blessings. We did the same. And my friend took a Rs.10 note and placed it inside.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b>Blessing for money!</b></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The priest started saying something in Hindi but I couldn’t hear him. My friend had a blank face. He took another Rs.10 note but the priest still kept saying something. I moved closer. "What is this? Ten rupees only for the blessings. Be gracious. Put hundred or two hundred at least. What is this ten rupees,” the priest said in Hindi.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I translated to my friend and when the priest heard me say 100 he repeated, "Yes, 100." But my friend didn't have 100; he asked me and I gave it to the priest. The priest blessed us. So far so good.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The pass got us an entry to the main shrine as well; over here you have Siva's lingam. No time given to pause inside; you just keep walking along. When we came out we were mobbed by 4 more priests; each of them having a similar stainless steel container in hand with the same contents. Wow; and they had now cornered my friend. I was also caught but fortunately found a gap through which I could escape this mob. My friend kept refusing while they kept giving their lecture in Hindi; he of course didn't know Hindi. When he agreed to put Rs.10, they refused; they didn't even let him put his hand in the container. Minimum was a Rs.100 note. We didn't know if this was the convention or what; it certainly didn't seem like practice with the way they mobbed him. He told me in Tamil to put my wallet inside; I did so and moved away from the mob. Finally he escaped as well. I wasn't keen on listening to the lecture they were giving about making whole hearted monetary offerings. Sometimes it is good not to understand what others are saying!</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">When we escaped and came to the area where the 5 priests were chatting, one of the seniors called my friend and advised him, "You don't need to give them anything. They are local priests."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">At least now I knew the convention! They told us to sit nearby and said they'll call us when the main event starts. I was angry; I had never seen folks within a temple force people to give money - they seemed to be taking advantage of the fact that people didn't know whether to give or not; people would fear not giving because they wouldn't want to be cursed by these people in a temple; what if the curse became true?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I observed the priests with the stainless steel containers - when the local public came they weren't mobbing them. They waited but didn't force for a payment.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">We were called to the main place when the main event was about to start; it was the abhishekam. That's the process in which the idol of the God is bathed with different things and then decorated. Common things used are water, yogurt, milk ghee etc. Before the ceremony started, one of the staff put cleaning powder on the floor near the entrance to the shrine where we were seated on a bench.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"First we will clean the area and then you can sit down," he said in Hindi.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">My friend didn't understand but he did see the gesture of the staff pointing down; before I could interpret for him, he got up from the bench to sit on the floor. The staff shouted, "Are you mad or what? Wait."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I interpreted for my friend. Sometimes it is good to understand others!</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-17411368140393885632015-07-18T21:07:00.000+05:302015-07-26T16:50:05.609+05:30India travelogue 7 - The precious pass<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I had heard that people stand in queue for hours to enter the temple. As I walked for more than 5 minutes along the long stretch, I still didn't sight any queue and I didn't spot the actual entrance to the temple either! With the pressure from shopkeepers increasing I turned back; the tactic they use is to get you to leave your stuff with them for free (that's what they say) but they will force you to buy something from them (maybe a darshan plate or a garland of flowers as offering in the temple etc.)</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I was back in my lodging place at 8:15pm and the manager asked me, "Do you want to go for the darshan?"</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"Yes. But I got late in the Ganga aarti."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"Here is the pass. Eat quickly and go; 4 others will follow you; all of you can use the pass."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The pass had our community name on it and on the backside mentioned 4 + 1; the pass was valid for 5 people; 1 was me and 4 others from another room.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I had no clue what access the pass would give me; but there was no time for questions as I dumped all my stuff in my room, emptied my pockets except for my wallet (that was a mistake - should have dumped the wallet as well), ate idli and upma quickly in the mess and then ran with the other 3 folks. The 4th member didn't come since he was very old. The other 3 were in different age groups; 1 in his late 20s or early 30s; one in in his 40s and the other in 50s. The youngest one was my companion; he said he knew the way to the temple. He suddenly started running and told us all to run. "They've gone out already. We have to catch them. No need of slippers.”</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I had no clue who we had to catch; I thought it was only the 4 of us. Did he mean it was late for the darshan and we'd miss it?</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Barefoot walking is soothing on the feet; and since there were no glass pieces on the ground I felt fine running barefoot. You had to dodge the dung and watery mess on the ground but otherwise there was no problem. Maybe that was one reason why I didn't see anyone barefoot; if you did have even the slightest of cuts on your foot, you could easily get the wound infected. Maybe… but I was to discover more about this later.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"Come here. This is shortcut," he said and took a side street. Varanasi is famous for the network of narrow side streets; you keep thinking it will be a dead end but lo behold you will hit a main road somewhere! This shortcut probably saved us 2 minutes.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"There they are," he shouted.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"Oh there. Where?" I asked because all I could see were numerous heads and nothing distinct. I simply followed him. We ran like we were possessed - the last such run I did was in New York where I was the one possessed and another friend was following me; my role had reversed here.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"They're almost in the entrance. Run."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Finally I discovered that he was trying to merge with another group that came from our trust a few minutes earlier; they consisted of a group of people going one behind another carrying some items on their shoulders - items for decoration in the temple, somethings for the Gods and some Aluminium box; we stayed behind the Aluminium box. We could finally just walk; we went down the same narrow congested alley I had gone by 30 minutes earlier. But this time no one stopped me - I didn't have slippers and no watch. And as the entourage passed by, people shopping stood to the side and let us pass like VIPs! Even shopkeepers kept looking at us though they would have seen this sight daily. The elderly men in our group of 4 caught up with us.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"Do you have the pass?"</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I checked again. "Yes." What an anti-climax it would have been if I had lost it in the running!</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">We reached a point where I could see people waiting in a queue - this was the queue to enter the temple; at the entrance were two security guards checking people. We bypassed this group and went further ahead to another entrance. The Aluminium box bearer was let through but we were stopped by a rough North Indian policeman.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"What?" he asked with an angry questioning look on his face.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"Pass. Pass. We have pass," my new friend announced.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"What pass?" he asked again with the same grumpy look.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I gave the pass in his hand. He took a close look at it trying to identify if this were a forgery. We turned it around and showed the handwritten number of 4 + 1.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">"5 people. Pass for 5."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">My friend just kept walking ahead saying those words. I had one had on the pass and followed him. The policeman let go of the pass and soon there was a crowd converging behind us that the policeman had to handle.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-40088717500667548242015-07-03T20:19:00.000+05:302015-07-26T16:50:16.870+05:30India travelogue 6 - 24/7 temple!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I had to rush back since I didn't want to miss the Ganga aarti (ceremony performed on the river Ganga); on the way I saw a group of guys huddled in a circle on the floor. Was it cards? I wasn't sure. I also saw some of the bearded guys now smoking something inside a thick cigar - was it just a cigar with nicotine or something else? I don't know but I could think of one friend of mine who would have known exactly what it was.</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">People were sitting everywhere to watch the aarti. Some with camera stands, some recording on their mobiles, some half asleep in the evening breeze. At least over here the breeze felt a bit cool; but then it was late in the evening and the sun had retreated.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The ceremony was happening in the neighbouring Ghat as well - another 6 priests were doing the same thing that was happening in the main Ghat but only difference seemed to be that there was a time lag. First there were a couple of songs, then the lighting of the lamps accompanied by background songs and then the actual aarti song (the tune in all aarti songs is the same but the lyrics are different; here the lyrics were about mother Ganga; I couldn't follow the lyrics entirely but enjoyed the tune) and then closure. The lamps used were large lamps and it is quite a sight to see the sequence of steps. I was surprised that the sound from one Ghat wasn't really audible in the neighbouring Ghat; that's why they could do it side by side. The ceremony didn't happen at the river bank; it happened midway at the Ghat. The boatmen lined up their boats with passengers to face the aarti. So there were people in front on the same level, in front down below, on the sides and behind the priests while they performed. There were plain clothe policemen walking around with security scanning devices - one of them waved his machine at my bag. There was one man who was like the conductor of an orchestra; he encouraged the crowd to clap along to the tune of the songs; he walked across the crowd and prodded them along. He also ensured that no one neared the area of the priests.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The time was 8pm; I was supposed to be back at 7:15pm because in the place I stayed they said that at 7:15 I could get a special pass to attend a function happening in a temple nearby. While walking back I saw signage with directions to that temple - it was a small signboard near a narrow opening to a side street. Out of curiosity I thought of checking out the temple before returning to my room - anyway it was really late for me to get the pass; someone else must have already gone with it by now. </span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The narrow road was really not a road - it was like a footpath that was flooded with shops on either side. The width was barely the width of a rickshaw. You'd think no vehicles would ply in here but no - we had a few bikes buzzing through this lane as well. It was a winding trail that kept going on and on. The shops weren’t empty either; every shop seemed to have some customer or the other.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /><span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Some shopkeepers on the way stopped me saying, "Leave your things here. They are not allowed in the temple." And I politely replied that I wasn't going to enter the temple. You are not allowed to wear slippers (like all other temples), not allowed to take mobiles inside and I was told that not even a pen is allowed here! Seems a little extreme but such was the level of security- everyone agreed that it was better that they had such restrictions; why take a chance since Varanasi as a whole was a sensitive area and places of worship more so - this type of security screening wasn't there in all temples but this one is considered very special. They have darshans (ceremonies in the temple) even at 11pm and 3am; it's kind of like a 24/7 temple. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-55420979729998570542015-06-21T15:20:00.000+05:302015-06-21T15:20:19.498+05:30India travelogue 5 - What's life?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I was cautious - first time in a new place where you don't know about the local practices you ought to be careful; I had read stories of foreigners getting in trouble when they were simply taking snaps. I observed and walked; felt a little eerie as I went further to the left because people were very few.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I noticed two fires burning near the Ganga river bank - it looked like a funeral but it didn't seem clear because I didn't see any family around. There were only a group of young guys chatting, moving things around, walking up and down the Ghat etc. </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">A little further up the steps of this Ghat, there were huge piles of wooden logs cut in fixed lengths. There were a couple of guys carrying few of these pieces from the stockpile to near the fires where they arranged them neatly. </span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b>Ceremony at the Ghat</b></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">While this was happening there were a couple of other scenes that caught my attention. I heard huge drumbeats coming from somewhere beyond the Ghat. The sounds became louder with every minute and I saw three stretchers being carried by people to the river bank. These were wooden stretchers which were wrapped in the centre in ornate colourful cloth. Were those bodies? Or was this some other ceremony?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Another scene unfolding near me was that of a small boy, hardly 8 years old, trying to steer two buffaloes up the Ghat (each Ghat has a series of steps leading to the river bank). He tugged with all his might but the buffaloes wanted to go in the other direction; it was quite a sight - a little boy trying to control something that was so huge and he was trying it bravely without fear that in case the buffaloes charged at him he was a goner. I would have feared holding the rope. The boy wasn't successful; he got help from another man who seemed a veteran in handling them - he tugged and the buffaloes reluctantly changed direction climbing the Ghat.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">My open questions were soon clarified. The stretcher was placed on the ground; two men removed the ornate cloth to reveal some mass that was wrapped in a white sheet. Both of them held the mass on extreme ends, lifted it from the wooden stretcher and placed it on the rectangular structure that was created with the log pieces. When they lifted the mass I was sure it was a body; one guy held the head while the other held the legs. Everything was covered but you could make out the shape. This was left in place for a few minutes; would someone from the family light it? All of a sudden another youngster casually lit a log and slipped it under the body. He did the same from the other side as well and soon the flames rose; consuming wood and the body as fuel. Two more bodies were still on the stretcher and two more were burning on the side.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b>Dust in the end</b></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The words of the manager rung in my mind, "Time doesn't matter here." </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">I watched the flames lost in thought. On the steps I saw an Indian guide explaining something to a foreigner. I saw a couple of foreigners sitting near a tea stall smoking beedi; that was quite a sight - soaking in Indian culture was great but I didn't expect to see Europeans smoking a beedi! </span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">A couple of foreign ladies stopped near me because their guide stopped abruptly. He started explaining to them, "It is considered very holy to die here. People stay in hostels hoping to die here. Hostels are near by. People stay to die in the hostels.” </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Was he promoting the hostels? Fortunately he didn't dwell on that for long. "When someone dies elsewhere it is holy to have their funeral here. Because the person can reach moksha or nirvana or enlightenment. But the body has to be brought within 24 hours or else it has to be done in their own place."</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">At this Ghat there was also an electric furnace inside a building for burning bodies - electric furnaces were now a common way of cremation. The exterior of the building had a strange black charred look; apt I guess considering what happens inside.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The guide explained the practice of Sati - wife jumping into the fire where the husband's body was cremated. He said it was no longer practiced. It seemed like he memorised the lines or perhaps he had said it so often that his narration sounded like a robot.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<br />
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Witnessing funerals and deaths makes you ponder over life; even changes your perspective. Here I was seeing 5 lifeless bodies; no matter what they had achieved in this world - be it fame or money or ego victories over others; no matter what, in the end everything is dust. </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i>Everything seems so petty when you think of the dust - ambition, designations, placements, career growth, increments, number of people reporting to you, rank in college, prettiness, beauty, health, wealth, friends, relatives, anger, love, hatred, lust, desire, addiction, Facebook likes, retweets, comments, girlfriends, boyfriends, bank balance, heat, cold, hard work; everything fades.</i></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">-----</span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-13696973649797188972015-06-15T00:08:00.003+05:302015-06-15T00:13:33.993+05:30India travelogue 4 - Scenes at the river Ganga<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1"><b>Barefoot anyone?</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Even amongst this crowd heading to the river Ganga Ghats, there were two wheelers honking their way; at least no four wheelers attempting to wade through this human traffic! There were plenty of small shops: clothes, tailors, food, sweets, chaat, vegetables, fruits, oily foods, religious items, jeans, betel leaf with paan, grocery etc. Not one big shop I saw. I also observed that there was absolutely no one who walked barefoot - since this felt like an old city I expected to see people barefoot - the reason I would find later. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Streets were dirty but with so many people you barely noticed what was there on the ground! And even with the dirt and large mass of people, the place was not smelly. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">There were many schoolgirls walking in gangs, many couples, many elderly people and few South Indians. Hadn't yet spotted foreigners amidst this bustling crowd.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I can't say the Ganga was a breathtaking sight; it was a river but since we've grown up hearing stories about the importance of the Ganga from a religious as well as geographical perspective you do pause a moment to admire the river. The Ghats were one beside the other - so if you land in one Ghat you could walk from one to the other without having to go back to the street to access them; they were connected in a sense. There are about 50 steps that lead you from the road to the river bank (that forms a Ghat); and these steps span out horizontally to the other Ghats; not completely connected but you will be able to find a path from the stairs to the next Ghat. Many people simply sat on the steps, gazing at the preparations happening for the Ganga Aarti (puja/ceremony).</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>Aghoris?</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Since the aarti would begin at 7pm, I had time to wander across the Ghats; I took the left side. As I went further I saw foreigners; some as a pair, some in groups of 3 or 4, some single with an Indian guide but very rare was the case of a single foreigner. Some hotels (not 5 star ones) were located right next to the Ghat. I had read reviews online that said some of these hotels will cater well to foreigners but wouldn't care much for Indian travellers; cater where the money is! </span></div>
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<span class="s1">In many Ghats, the buildings bordering the Ghat had huge wall paintings on them along with the name of the Ghat; unfortunately they weren't maintained else that would have been a beautiful way to depict our culture. </span>As I went further to the left, the crowd kept thinning. In almost all the Ghats you had guys who would take people on boats across the river; simple wooden boats without a motor. In some of these Ghats there were benches on the steps and there were couples enjoying the moment away from prying eyes. Typically when someone says Varanasi, people think of aghoris (guys with long unkempt hair and beard, who use drugs, who don't interact with humanity, who eat flesh, who are in search of liberation or nirvana or enlightenment); did I see any here? Not really; at least no one eating flesh. But there were few elderly men with long beards, wearing a thin robe sitting with some items like rudrakshas, scrolls, some notes and other items scattered all around them. </div>
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<span class="s1">There were also small gangs of local guys; and there were few trolley tea shops on the Ghats. In one such shop, there were two kids in shorts dancing to some old Hindi songs playing on a radio; the kids were full of enthusiasm and didn’t care about onlookers - the entire scene felt like a shot from history; the songs were also really old like 'Chumma chumma dhey dhey... chumma chumma dhey dhey chumma...' And I shall not attempt translating that!</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-53482179794698569512015-06-06T20:04:00.000+05:302015-06-06T20:09:05.928+05:30India travelogue 3 - Fear and boredom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1">I came to Godowlia Chowk - kind of like a junction area where two important roads intersected. The crowd of pedestrians was heavy here. I was happy to see a police beat station with a couple of cops around. Even amidst such heavy crowds, vehicles still found their way! I kind of got lost for a while trying to locate Sonapura road. My destination was on a side branch that ran parallel to the main road and strangely that road was quiet! You can expect to see plenty of cows and bulls and buffaloes walking along with you - you see it in Chennai also but I felt it was more over here. Dung is there in unexpected places. My destination was a place run by a trust; when I spoke on phone they said I wouldn’t be able to stay there but they were happy now to let me stay in one of their rooms (they have 60 rooms); no AC but the room they gave me was a spacious one with a couple of single beds, attached bathroom, basin, 4 windows and 2 fans. I could have survived in a place one-third that size. I chatted with the treasurer for the place.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I got chided politely by him for not knowing what was my sub caste, sub sub caste and what not; had to call up mom to get those details! "You should learn these things," he said in a friendly manner. You could at this point get into a debate over whether all of that even matters; in the end does any form of classification matter? But surely this wasn't the time for philosophical debate with someone who had just given me accommodation. The manager I guessed was in his late 50s; he had a couple of sons - one doing business and one working in Wipro. He told how 6 years back his son took the parents to Switzerland for a month when he was on an onsite deputation over there. He told about seeing the banks where Indian money was claimed to be, the Alps, the chill weather, not being able to step out even in the daytime for a week, wearing jerkins instead of sweaters, his trip to Italy with north-indian Wipro guys, having to throw his knife that he had for cutting apples before entering the Vatican etc. You could see the joy in his eyes as he narrated his travelogue; happy that his son took him abroad, happy that he had stepped out of India at least once. A few years back he was bored at home after having retired. That’s when he visited Varanasi and liked the place. He joined this trust and has been working here for 3 years. He finds it peaceful; food inside this place was also more South Indian style food and he was content.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>We hate work; but we still need it!</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">In old age, boredom is one issue and fear is another - it is strange that as we grow older we seem to have more and more fear even though you would think that logically it is absurd. As you live out more of your life, you are nearing the inevitable; you have seen a lot of things in life; so why worry now? Shouldn't we be more worried when we are a kid since we don't know if we will live to experience life or whether life will end soon; strange it is but that's just my observation of people around. The treasurer didn't talk about fears but he did seem happy that he had work; he made me wonder why we work - it is so hard to stay idle though we always keep thinking while working 'if only i could just relax at home without working then I would be content.' Unfortunately once we stop working, we feel bored! What a vicious circle! The job he did had a bit of social side to it; he interacted with many people; helped poor people by giving them accommodation in the building etc. He said how people would come all through the day and night at odd hours and someone had to be available to handle that. Social work always helps - you think of others and that helps you forget yourself. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I had to perform a function tomorrow and was told in Chennai that I should do it after 11am; but the manager for the trust said, "In Varanasi, time doesn't matter. There is nothing like good time and bad time over here. You don't need to bother about time."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">But he assured me that he’ll try to fix an appointment for as late in the morning as possible.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">At about 5:30pm I started for a walk; I thought of checking out the river Ganga and also catch the aarti (aarti is a puja/ceremony done with lamps). The Dashashwamedh Ghat was only about 10 minutes away; the Ganga is a lengthy river and there are about 80 places in Varanasi where there are steps that take you to the banks of the river - each of these points are a Ghat and they have names for them. The Dashashwamedh Ghat is the main one. I was surprised with the crowd I saw on the road heading to that Ghat; it was literally packed on both sides and you could see hoards of people as far as you could see. This was like Ranganathan street but more longer than that (that street is a famous one in Chennai). </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">(My ebooks available here: </span><a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx" style="background-color: white; color: #b5653b; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">) </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-23625582632825336002015-05-31T14:12:00.000+05:302015-05-31T14:13:30.299+05:30India travelogue 2 - In Varanasi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s1">When the Indigo flight landed in Varanasi there was no connecting passage between the flight and airport and there wasn't a bus to take us to the airport either. You go down the steps from the flight and walk across the tarmac into the terminal! It wasn't bad but it was odd; it reminded me of Malaysia where we had to do the same for boarding the flight! The airport was small but clean, neat and silent. It didn't seem like they had to handle too many simultaneous flights. I took my time, got my phone up and running, connected to gps and the internet. I headed to the airport authorized taxi counter - one of my worries was whether I would have to haggle over taxi fare. And haggling over prices is no good if you don't have a reference point of your own. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I announced 'Beniya Bagh park'. The guy at the counter said it was around 27km though Google claimed it was only 23 or so; anyway I didn't argue. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">'AC or non AC?’ he asked. AC was priced Rs.100 higher and I opted for non-AC. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I had to pay Rs.50 at the counter and he said the remaining Rs.650 I should give the driver. "No other charges?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"No. Nothing. No parking or anything."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">First surprise I had was when driver asked me to pay the parking charge at airport’s exit. He also pointed to the receipt I had where it said, "Parking and toll charges have to be borne by the passenger!" I wasn't in a mood to get out from the car, walk to the airport and check with the counter guy. It was Rs.40.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"Beniya Bagh park? Do you know where it is?”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">That was the second surprise; I assumed he would know the park; aren’t parks prominent?</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"It is in Beniya Bagh,” I replied hesitantly.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"I don't know. Have you seen it before?"</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"No. My friend will come there." That was a partial lie. I just wanted to take a walk to my real destination to get a feel of the surroundings. “You can go to Beniya Bagh.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I followed the blue dot on Google Maps to see if we were on the right track. Most of the main roads had only 2 lanes; the side roads were in bad shape and the driver used them to bypass traffic. The time was 2:30pm and I could feel the heat; definitely hotter than Chennai. There was a difference but I didn't realize what it exactly was till later.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The driver suddenly pulled over. According to Google, this is where the park was but all I saw was a road filled with small shops on either side.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">After walking a few meters I discovered the park; it was on a side road on the left side. Seeing the state of the park I knew why the driver didn’t know about it; it was a dilapidated park with some greenery but hardly any maintenance. There were people sleeping on the grass. It looked a bit shady as well!</span></div>
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<span class="s1">My first impression of Varanasi was that it appeared like a small town than a large city. There were so many small shops stacked one beside the other on both sides of the road; there were many shops on trolleys; not one large store I spotted in my 10 minutes of walking. There were a lot of two-wheelers on the road and there were so many rickshaws - not motor driven rickshaws but manually driven ones (tricycle with a seat that can accommodate 3 passengers with a sun shade on top).</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Each side of the road was hardly 2 lanes wide. As I walked closer to my destination the crowd increased. There were many school kids travelling on rickshaws. Most girls had wrapped their faces and hands in cloth; there was only a small opening for their eyes. The reason was heat - even the breeze would feel like burning your skin. This was the opposite of what I felt in Boston during their peak winter - the breeze there would be so cold that you had to cover all your skin. The heat was literally scorching; to add to the problem there were no trees on the road - just small buildings with shops and so no shade. Men had small towels on their head to protect themselves from the heat. And this was not even peak summer - it was just 40 degree centigrade. Wow - and people say Chennai is hot! Humid yes but hot, no way!</span><br />
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<span class="s1">(My ebooks available here: <a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a>)</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-48528142877970134932015-05-23T11:52:00.001+05:302015-05-23T11:52:11.585+05:30Varanasi travelogue 1 - Landing in New Delhi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Age and makeup</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<span class="s1">Unfortunately I hadn't done an online check-in and had to wait in a long queue at the check-in counter. Indigo had an interesting add-on; one of their staff walks by the queue, gets passenger details and prints the boarding pass - he had a wireless device with a wireless printer around his neck (a small handy one). There was a huge family of around 12 people travelling on the same route as me - Chennai to Delhi to Varanasi. From that group, two male adults and one little boy were at the counter to collect all their boarding passes; the boy was repeating excitedly, "I want the window seat." The middle aged man casually assured the boy that he would get it. At that age we have worries about wanting a window seat; small worries that at that age seem really big. To the adult it was a petty issue in the grand scheme of things - he was worried about whether all 24 passes were right. And the guy at the counter probably had his own set of worries about the job. How silly our worries when we look back on them!</span></div>
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<span class="s1">As usual I was among the last people to board the flight. Though I had an aisle seat, a small boy and his dad asked me to switch with a seat in front; uh... I ended up in a window seat; the seat I hate the most because you are boxed inside and can't get out at will. An old lady on my right was worried about not being able to make her connecting flight to Lucknow; she was worried if she would know how to get to the connecting flight and she took assurance from me twice or thrice on whether I would guide her to her next flight. We made some small conversation about her family, son, grandson etc. as I spoke in broken Hindi and some English. It's easy to make conversation while traveling with most people. The 2nd lady further away from me was middle aged but had a thick layer of makeup that kind of lifted her cheeks and covered any signs of wrinkles or scars. They say makeup hides age but I guess it actually gives away age! There was another young lady I saw who had shades of yellow and brown hair - artificial of course; must have taken a while to dye like that. Though it was a 2.5 hour flight, there was no meal included in the price; not even a sandwich. The sight of instant upma and noodle boxes in which the air hostess poured hot water didn't tempt me to buy anything in the flight even though I was hungry.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>Fears</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">We arrived in Delhi on time; the bus from the flight to the terminal took a fair bit of time; it went winding down a long route similar to how I felt in Frankfurt. But Delhi airport didn't seem impressive. We got down in terminal 1C and our departure was from 1D; there were no signs to 1D. You have to step outside the building, walk across a small street and then take a lift in the next building to reach 1D. As we walked, the aunty was constantly worried, “Is this the right way?” It’s strange that our fears grow as we age; more on that later. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">There were no signs to the boarding gates either. All of them were on a lower level; continuous one after the other. There were very few seats in this level and naturally there was plenty of crowding. The sign on top read 'Please proceed to your boarding gate after checking your flight status.' But people don't really do that; they are worried of missing the flight and they all immediately go down leading to a pile up.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">There are a few food outlets like Pizza Hut, KFC on the upper level; again it's a small area that gets crowded easily. You'd get the feeling that they didn't plan for volumes when designing this terminal; the idea of gates being grouped together also didn't work out well. And to add to the problem, even though boarding had started the display boards on top didn’t show the status and some announcements could barely be heard.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">(Note: My books are available online - <a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a>)</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25233647.post-91881165440109740432015-05-19T11:18:00.002+05:302015-05-19T11:27:08.182+05:30Poem: How cool is a flight attendant's job?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
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The whole crew looks classy,<br />
none of them sport a pot belly.<br />
We think surely their perks are jazzy,<br />
on a job that can't be on them cruelly.<br />
<br />
We think they have a lot of fun,<br />
flying frequently under the sun.<br />
Staying often in 5 star abode,<br />
where unlimited food galore.<br />
<br />
Patiently they take order like a waiter,<br />
and collect money like a cashier,<br />
keep the flight neat as wud a cleaner,<br />
with elderly and kids act as caretaker.<br />
<br />
Customers discard their pleasant greet,<br />
some demand them for change of seat,<br />
some argue over water and meat,<br />
some stare rudely from head to feet.<br />
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Some whose actions forever haunt,<br />
some whose words in their mind taunt,<br />
some with them in anger misbehave,<br />
amidst all this our air host stays brave.<br />
<br />
No matter how bad their day,<br />
they put up a face that is gay.<br />
Inside they may be sad, hurt and fear,<br />
but the mask they wear sports a cheer.<br />
<br />
They stay many times away from family,<br />
every job has its own perks and difficulty.<br />
Let us treat them as friends respectably,<br />
and make them smile as they serve selflessly.<br />
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<b>PS:</b><br />
And now they have to bear with a terrible writer,<br />
who thinks his poetry will make them brighter!<br />
<br />
<i>(I wrote this during a flight)</i><br />
<br />
<i>If you enjoyed this you might enjoy my books as well:</i> <a href="http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx">http://www.sstutor.com/book.aspx</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09773764537844244737noreply@blogger.com0