Tuesday, 23 December 2008

Ctrl C + Ctrl V

Saw this as a status message of an acquaintance in G-talk:

Never make someone a priority in your life, when you are just an option in their life.


Tuesday, 16 December 2008

Wednesday, 10 December 2008

Rubbing it in

I was a bit angry with a couple of people over the weekend. So, yesterday I took it out on the hapless cricket ball, by hurling it as fast as I could, and whacking it as hard as I could. In the process, I forgot that I am neither Brett Lee nor Kevin Pietersen.
Result: I had to miss office today since I pulled a back muscle.

This is what I hate about cricket. You don't feel anything while playing, with the adrenalin flowing all around. But the next day morning, you feel terrible, like a bad hangover after a great party.

So, I called sick and stayed at home. The doctor was surprised with 'cricket' as a reason for my bad back. She gave me an injection on my lower back. Trust me, it is the worst place to get an injection. It feels like the needle is piercing your brain!

After the injection, she gave me her prescription and asked me to come back if the pain persists. Just as when I was about to leave, she said, with a snigger,

'And yeah, NO sex for a week!'

Yeah, right!

Monday, 1 December 2008


Of late, after the terrorist attacks, there has been lot of talk about how the (in)famous 'Mumbai Spirit' has been lost this time and all that jazz. Frankly, it doesn't make any sense. I went to office just like normal.

Yes, I was intrigued by the bullet holes in the glass pane of the announcer's cabin in VT, the bullet marks on the pavement, the broken windowpanes of the Oberoi, the presence of gun wielding, bullet proof (?) jackets wearing policemen in the station, resignation of bar-girl chasing and safari suit wearing home ministers. But it didn't bother me that much, since I had a job to do. I think the same goes with every other Mumbaikar. This is because we simply cannot afford to stop working and stay put at homes, since we are afraid, now that we might be killed in a terrorist attack. Compulsion is called 'spirit' here!

I don't think this terrorist attack is a problem to the 'spirit'. People might be a little scared and scarred, but they know they cannot escape the randomness of terrorist attacks. If you are unlucky that the terrorist chooses your location as a target, then its time to say goodbye to this world!

What probably can, and does hurt the spirit, is the divisive rampages that occur every now and then. In that case, there is no randomness.

You know you will be attacked.

Friday, 28 November 2008


Monday, 24th November, 9:33 pm
Venue: VT Station

I catch the 9:33 Dombivli Semi-Fast and settle down with a packet of samosas in a window seat and start watching 'Two and Half men' on my ipod.

Tuesday, 25th November, 9:33 pm
Venue: VT Station
I catch the 9:33 Dombivli Semi-Fast. This time I don't get a window seat. I settle down and start reading about a Trading System.

Wednesday, 26th November, 9:33 pm
Venue: VT Station
I wasn't there. I left early, just a tad.

I don't know whether to rejoice about my lucky survival or feel sorry for the people, who were feasted upon, by blood hungry, heartless, non-living things.

Sunday, 12 October 2008

Sevittu machine

Navratri got over last week. We generally have golu at our place during Navratri. I really looked forward to the golu since it meant, I would get sundal and in addition, cute girls come home wearing silk dresses and sing carnatic songs.

It's been three years since I had been at home for golu. But, as some distant relative had passed away, we couldn't have it this year. Still, some pattis had come home for some pooja.

I was home at that time, sitting quietly in a corner and listening to my ipod. A patti came close to me and was curious about the ipod.

'Yenna da ithu, kaathu kekathava machine maathri?'


'Illa paatti, ithu per Ipod. Ithula paattu kekalaam'

'Oh, transistor-aa?'


'Aama athu maathri thaan'

'Seri kaami, naanum kekren.'


I swear to god, I am not making this up. But this is what happened next.

I was listening to Pehli nazar mein. It was almost over and I gave it to her when the song was about to change.

Note: She doesn't know too much hindi.

She put the earphones and was looking at the small screen.

'Saawariya Saawariyaa.....'

'Yennada ithu, yenna saawariya nu kekkarthu!'


I immediately forwarded it to the next song. This is where I hate my playlist.

Next song blared on her earphones.

'Saawariya saawariya..' This was from Swades.

'Che, yennada ithu, yenna thitindey irukku. Poda neeyum un sevittu machinum'

Saturday, 27 September 2008

Oranje Originale

Today we had a soccer fest in my company. After my name was forcibly put by my well intentioned colleagues, I had no option but play. I was put in Orange Originals team and was given a cute orange coloured kit too.
Aha! Chance to be a Nistelrooy, a Persie, a Sneijder or if lucky, a frigging Van Basten!

As usual is with amateur football, everyone, I mean everyone, wanted to play forward. We had a mail list of my team mates where we were discussing about at which positions people would play.
There were 9 in the team, of which 6 wanted to be forwards and claimed to be good strikers and bad tacklers. Rest three, including me, didn't even bother sending a read receipt to those mails. What enthusiasm!

So the day arrived. I should say, the event was brilliantly planned. 100 people playing football, running 10 miles each, on a nice, soothing 40 degree celsius, 95% humid day. There was a shamiana, where tasty breakfast was provided. Cheese sandwiches, masala dosa and the works.
Were we going to play football?

After some passing and shooting practice, we decided our spots. Since I could run fast and had a non existent left leg, I was made a right winger.
Yay!!! Beckham!!

The goal kick from rival keeper reached me. I somehow kept it in control with my, now bulging, paunch and started running with the ball.

Huff. Puff.

I looked around to see if I could pass to anyone. My captain was shouting at me to pass the ball to him. The only problem was, he was standing even behind the goalkeeper of the other team, since there was no offside, and there were exactly 5 players of the opposition between us

So, I did something which was vaguely close to dribbling and neared one of their midfielders.
I tried to pass the ball to my team mate, but my footballing talent betrayed me, as I flung my leg above the ball and the ball stayed there itself. But this fooled the other guy and he went off balance. So I could go straight on. Wow! A fake pass!

I started running again.

Huff. Puff.

This time, a small defender, roughly the size of Inzamam ul Haq and with a very close resemblance to Evander Holyfield, marched towards me, like an animal that is no longer existent in financial markets.

To say that I was afraid would be an understatement. I didn't know what to do.

Out of instinct, or pure luck, or whatever, I pushed the ball between his legs and before he could turn, I ran around him, and took the ball and somehow with a huge amount of divine intervention planted it into the net.


I just went fucking crazy. Didn't know what to do. Put the jersey over my head and ran around the ground, showing my paunch and my poonal in the process to the crowd around. Drama King!

God, I still can't believe this. I really can't.

But the sad part is, this historic event was neither photographed nor captured in a video.

Just like Kapil Dev's 175, yet another episode of sporting excellence went away uncaptured, but will always be in public memory, atleast my memory. :-)

Sunday, 21 September 2008

Trigger my passion

This weekend I watched Rock on for the fourth time. Yes, I downloaded the music one month before the movie instead of buying the CD as advised at the end of the movie. However, I now think that I have more than compensated for that by watching it four times in expensive multiplexes and gorging on unbelievably overpriced coffees, pop corn and soft drinks.

Every time I watch the movie, it sends me into a downward spiral. As you know this movie is about an investment banker who is really passionate about music and stuff. I know that's not the core story, but that's what is relevant to me. :-)

I keep thinking, 'What is my passion?'

In terms of extra curricular abilities, my mom used to quote Dilbert -
'Don't worry that you do not have any talent. 95% of the people in this world do not have any talent.'

I don't know whether it was actually said by Dilbert, but I sincerely hope it's true. I like the comfort in being in an overwhelming majority. But again, its the minuscule minority that gains maximum attention, like girls in a mechanical engineering course.

The problem that kills me is that I do not seem to have any passion. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Then, I tried to define passion as something you really love to do, to see if that way I can decode something.

After some hard thinking, I realized, I was very passionate about sleeping. I loved to sleep for 10 hours. But that is something like an unaffordable luxury nowadays. Still, a passion for sleeping doesn't lead you anywhere.

Hmm..what else?

I am passionate about potato chips, watching cricket at home sitting in my sofa and eating vadams, listening to music, watching cheap tamil movies and the likes.

Did you observe something? Nothing is productive.

I mean, I do not play cricket, I watch cricket.
I do not play an musical instrument, I just play my Ipod.
I do not cook. I just eat.

What a waste of life!

Friday, 12 September 2008

Rock on rant

Dear Abhishek Kapoor,

Congratulations for making a very good movie with some amazing music. I understand that you took great pains in developing the characters. However, as a part of the now maligned investment banking community, I would like to raise our disapproval of the far too real portrayal of an investment banker in the movie.
I mean, come on, yes, we live absofuckinglutely sad lives. But that doesn't give you any right to show our not-so-happening life to the truest colour and dilute away our already diminishing value proposition to the womankind! We had been living in denial and were perfectly comfortable living that way. But you changed all that.

My friends are now asking me, when I will get married, so that they can shift next to my house and give my wife company while I spend time with my first wife, my job!
You tell me, how should I handle queries about my friends' taunts about me finding paying guest accomodation inside my office!

We were so happy, with people looking at us with newspaper reports flaunting our over hyped, wrongly calculated and ridiculously misquoted, high salaries. Now, they look at the same newspapers and call us to find out the latest score, the number of people fired in our firms. And your film has added fuel to the fire. Anyways, I hope you understand our feelings and make sure you do not show any investment banker in poor light again. For all you know, you might need help from one of us while listing your production company or managing your wealth. :P

Yours faithfully,

PS: Forgot to mention, thanks for letting the investment banker have the cutest wife in the movie. If only that was true in real life......sigh!

Saturday, 30 August 2008


Of late, we have been seeing some violent protests in a couple of places in the country by some political leaders, who do not, as of now, have that much a standing in their respective electoral regions. I began to ponder whether, these so called populist leaders, were really there for the concerns of the people or something else. My logic was, if they were really concerned about the people, they wouldn't be harassing others in the process, right?

Then my friend told me a story and things fell in place.

Some years back, a Korean auto major opened a plant in a port city in South India. It was provided vast swathes of land, near a highway, almost free of charge. Nobody opposed it then. The reason was, both mouths, ruling and opposition, were stuffed. The ruling CM got a percentage on each car sold from there and the opposition got a flat rate so that there would no voice raise against the deal.

This did not happen with the Indian auto major, who setup a plant recently. The CM did not request for anything 'on the side'. So, they industrialists completely forgot about something called 'opposition'. Their beaks had to be wetted. Their silence had to be bought. But it wasn't and you can see the results now.

Another interesting situation is happening in the financial capital, where a certain leader is trying to whip up linguistic fervor in anything and everything. We shouldn't be be surprised if we see requests for a regional anthem in the local language instead of the sanskrit one we have now.

This is being done for primarily for two reasons. One, to corner the vote bank of the hardcore linguistic fanatics. And two, to position himself, as a nuisance generator. Greater the nuisance value, greater will be the 'water' provided to quench the 'thirst' in case of any new projects in future. There is no need to be a ruling party to ask for 'water', it depends on how much nuisance you can create.

Tuesday, 26 August 2008


We had just reached Neyveli at around 3:45 am after a torrid 6 hour bus journey on a road which resembled the moon's surface with craters bigger than Wankhede Stadium. Probably, Armstrong took a photograph on these roads instead of the moon.
We had just settled down that my uncle got a call.
'Who's this so early in the morning?'
When he picked up the phone and started talking, his facial expression changed instantly. The news was of my Athimber thatha's (My mom's uncle) death.
I wouldn't say this was totally unexpected, but didn't expect it so soon, since he had been very sick and was under constant treatment.
He had died in a hospital in Chennai and they were bringing his corpse to Neyveli,a journey of about 200kms. My uncle asked me to help him in making the arrangements for the ceremony.

That's when it hit me. This was going to be my first encounter with a dead body. I have never been to a death ceremony in my life, have never seen a dead body so close, infact, I have lived inside a cocoon so far.

I was amazed by the speed of arrangements by my uncle.
How could he be so unemotional and do everything so efficiently?
How could he bargain with people at this moment?
How could he tie up the stretcher on which the corpse was supposed to be carried?
How could he?

Then, it arrived. There was crying, wailing, chest beating, hair pulling, and silence.
I caught a glimpse of my dear athimber with whom I had played night long carrom games, watched and dissected every cricket match, discussed about principles of metallurgy, discussed about maniratnam and balachander, discussed about BJP and Congress, discussed everything.

All those moments came swirling back into my mind and gushed out of eyes as tears. I couldn't avoid myself seeing him so cold, so blue, so pale, so lifeless. I couldn't believe he has become an it.

The last rites were performed and they started pouring rice on him. I went out, brought a pack of carrom coins and placed it on his leg and took his blessing and left the room, crying for my friend, my carrom rival, my cricket co-supporter and my cousin grand dad.

His son, later, came over and hugged me and said,
'We burned him along with those coins. I think he will be happy.'
I had no doubt that he would be.

Wednesday, 13 August 2008

He She

He didn’t understand the complicated admissions process. Hence, he met her to understand the process better and arrive at a better strategy for his brother’s admission. She explained to him in a very lucid way. He was impressed by her way of keeping things simple.

They discussed about admissions for about fifteen minutes and then talked about everything else for god-knows-how-many hours. She made him some nice filter coffee and he, in turn, gave her the address of a famous trust which gives out prestigious scholarships. They exchanged numbers and he left, telling that he will keep her updated about his brother’s admission.

Days passed. They exchanged messages ranging from enquiries about the admission to silly forwards. His brother didn’t get through in Round 1 and he was disappointed. She told him everything would be fine and suggested he should watch MMKR, which he promptly did.

After a week involving a couple of unintentional bump-ins and longish phone conversations, his brother got through into a great college and he was ecstatic. He immediately called her up and excitedly told her about it. They again started talking. Talking about things they had in common and did not.

She was cute, intelligent, smart, funny and bold.

Bold, because she asked him out, without any apprehension, much to his surprise. Probably it was her age or her hormones or both. He didn’t know how to react.

He still doesn’t. Because, she’s seventeen. And he’s twenty four!

Thursday, 7 August 2008

Wednesday, 6 August 2008


The Olympic Creed reads: The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part.

We have been taking it a bit too seriously I guess.

Sunday, 3 August 2008

Phrandship Day – The truth?

For whatever it is worth, Happy Phrandship day everyone!

When I went out with my friends for a Sunday evening cutting-chai, I was startled to see loads and loads of guys and girls, bursting with hormones, their arms covered almost completely by scribbles, signatures (all with marker pens), satin bands, stickers and what not, waiting outside restaurants, cafes, gardens and in some cases temples! After some uncontrollable ogling and in the process getting reprimanded by our female friends, we came back home.

I feel that FD is becoming a proxy for Valentine’s day.

It’s simple.

If you are a guy, and you like someone a lot, but are afraid to ask her out for the fear of rejection since you are a loser like me, then friendship becomes a nice carpet under which you can brush in the stuff, a la Mujhe Kucch Kehna Hai. You can atleast hangout with her and you always feel you have a chance. So, on FD you can show how much you really feel for her, how you are a ‘good friend’ and blah blah blah.

If you are a girl, you know this guy is hitting at you, you are not really thinking about getting into a relationship and hence want to keep him at an arm’s length and so what do you do?

In BC, you tied a rakhi to him.

In AD, you make him your ‘good friend’ :-)

Because now you are smarter, you do not want to close the option by tying a rakhi but don’t want to exercise it as well. Just keep it in the bag for possible future use.

Cheers to friendship!

Monday, 28 July 2008


I got hit in the knee yesterday.
I got hit on my right hand today.
I am perenially bleeding through my skull.
The seven fingers of my left hand are always trying to rip off from me.
My right hip has always been attacked.
My left waist is always injured.
Please allow me to live!
Please don't bleed me to death!

Wednesday, 23 July 2008

Tatt-2 can't dance saala!

I watched JTYJN yesterday with a couple of guy friends. Sad. I know it's a date movie.
There was this song called 'Pappu can't dance saala' which was really good.
Wait a minute! Pappu sounds very similar to Tatt-2, my dorm name. So, I thought I should rewrite the lyrics a little to make it more fun and more realistic. So, here's the new version.

Nahi muscular, Nahi popular, Nahi muscular, Nahi popular, he is a loser, he is a bachelor
Tatt-2 ki zubaan tez hai, Tatt-2 cricket mein waste hai
Tatt-2 ki aankhen chaar hai, Tatt-2 dikhta bekaar hai
Duplicate ghadi haathon mein perfume sasta wala
But Tatt-2 can’t dance saala, Tatt-2 can’t dance saalaTatt-2 naach nahi

Paida Tatt-2 hua to kismatein chamki
Aur uske ghar par giri paani ki tanki
Hey hey hey Tatt-2 dikhta hai bhaisa
Hey ye.. ye bhaiyya ke tabele ke jaisa
Hey hey hey Tatt-2 yaaron ka yaar hai
Hey ye.. ye.. Tatt-2 dimaag ko ‘shot’ hai
But Tatt-2 can’t dance saala, Tatt-2 can’t dance saalaTatt-2 naach nahi sakta

Papa kehte hain bada naam karega,
mera Tatt-2 to aisa kaam karega
Hey hey hey Tatt-2 ke paas hai M.B.A.
Hey ye..ye.. karta hai Dombivli mein holiday
Hey hey hey Tatt-2 mugta rehta hai..
Hey ye.. ye.. jahan interview karta hai hagta rehta hai
But Tatt-2 can’t dance saala
But Tatt-2 can’t dance saala, Tatt-2 naach nahi sakta!

Tuesday, 22 July 2008

They think I am no good.
I agree, because I am, but a shadow of myself.

Monday, 21 July 2008

Two emails

Dear Karthik,
Thank you for your interest in the PQR Group. Although it is clear that someone with your qualifications has much to offer, we have been unable to identify an ideal match between your particular background and experience and our current needs. However, we will keep your resume in our files on the chance that a suitable position should become available at a later date. We appreciate your taking the time to contact us and wish you the best in your job search.

Strategic Growth
PQR & Co. Ltd
Hello Karthik,

Hope this finds you well.
Subsequent to your interactions with Greg, we regret that we will not be able to advance your application to the next stage of discussions.
It is always very difficult to discontinue an interview process, but we are buoyed by the fact that we interact with exceptionally qualified and talented people who have a wide range of opportunities to choose from. On behalf of the recruiting team at ABC, I want to wish you the very best in your career.

Best Regards,
I signed out of my gmail inbox and got back to therapy. Nothing to worry about.
Therapy consists of watching porn and Michael Madana Kamarajan, eating vada pav, playing cricket in my lane with 6-7th standard students and cheating and reading some amazing books suggested by a very good friend of mine. Never knew reading could be this fun.

Wednesday, 16 July 2008

The call

Job hunting is tough. Especially in these times when people are struggling to hold on to their own asses. So, when I got shortlisted for an interview at a top notch company, to say that I was thrilled is a lie.
I was nervous. Finger biting nervous. Hand shivering nervous. This was my chance after a long time. Light at the end of a long tunnel.

So, I started preparing. Prepared like there was no tomorrow.

It was going to be a telephonic interview at 6 pm in the evening. So, I was all geared up at 5:45.
Mobile phone charged. Check.
Sheets of plain paper. Check.
Pencil sharpened. Check.
Spare pencil sharpened. Check.
Earphones of my mobile phone. Check.
Settle down calmly in my bedroom with doors locked. Check.
Pray. Check.

It was 5:59. I started staring at my clock. Every second seemed like a year. I was like a guy who had just proposed and was waiting near the phone for her to call.
Seconds, minutes crawled by.
Still no sound other than the raindrops in the balcony.
I could hear my heart beats. It was driving me insane.

This continued till 6:20. Nothing happened.
I did not get the call. I tried calling my friend who works there.

Then gave up. Felt like throwing my mobile phone on the wall. It had no network. It was on emergency mode. How on earth would I have got a call on that fucking phone?

Why me? The worst thing is I couldn't even yell out my frustration. I didn't want to affect my family.
So I called and cried. Now the son-of-a-bitch network was working fine!

Tuesday, 15 July 2008

Unintentional loudspeaker

Just found out to my surprise that orkut is a big, huge, monstrous zillion watt loudspeaker. Within 23.6 seconds of me changing my location from London to Mumbai, I received 492 scraps asking me whether I am back for a vacation or for good or am I just having fun or am I plain crazy.
Should I use 'reply to all' and shout about my situation?
Or should I just get back to my bed and try to lose sleep thinking about another uncertain sunrise that beckons?

PS: This is my ringtone now. :)

Wednesday, 9 July 2008


Time to bid adieu to the city which promised a lot but delivered a painful blow. But yes, I have grown up now. Grown much older than the one year I spent here. More than anything else, it has proved me the idiocy in placing too much faith on people, no matter how close they are. I have learnt more and more things as I spent more time in this city. Every place I have gone before has always given me new friends whom I treasure even now, but this place has disappointed me. It has shown me the darker sides of people, that people can be very selfish and heartless. Not that I have been a saint either. I have been at my worst here. Grow up Karthik!

Will I miss this city? Probably a little bit. I will miss the sheer variety of things available here, the closeness to the exhilarating Europe and the clean Thames.

Will this city miss me? Haha, are you kidding me? I had very few close people here and by design or by fate, each and every one of them has hurt me big! So much that I don’t even want to think about them anymore.

But then, I ruminate. I will ruminate.

These people and my moments with them are my memories which I take from here. Please don’t take them away from me! I know some of the emotions were faked, but still I would like to be an ostrich and be naive.

As I sail into the waters both familiar and unfamiliar, I might look back at the peacock feathered page of my life sometime later. Don’t know whether it will bring a smile or a frown in my face. But change my mood, it will.

Sayonara Old Blighty.

Friday, 4 July 2008

My love..

It’s 2 in the morning and I am wide awake. You don’t allow me to sleep. You keep coming back into my mind all the time. I think about you ALL the time.

I know it has been 2 months and our separation has been painful.

I think I need you now.

I crave for you. I want to be with you. I want to feel you.

I love you!

More than ever.

Please come back to me, you little drop of heaven on earth. I miss you sooo much! Mmmuaaahh!!

Thursday, 3 July 2008

Alter - Ego?

I get out of house once in a day for having my dinner. Dinner is fairly uneventful with me taking a book with me and reading it as I effortlessly slurp the ‘South Indian Meals’ at one of the quintessentially Thamizh restaurants in East Ham. However, today it was thankfully different.

I was talking to my brother on phone and we were discussing about the increasing price of samosas in theatres in Mumbai. We generally talk in sentences containing words from English, Tamil, Hindi and Marathi. As I hung up the phone and started salivating in the thought of devouring Chole Baturey, the guy, who was sitting in front of me and sharing my table, smiled at me and asked,
‘Are you from Mumbai?’
‘Where in Mumbai?’
‘Dombivali. Have you heard about the place? If not, its near Thane’
‘Dombivali? Wow! Where in Dombivali’

OK, this is getting interesting.

‘East. Pandurangwadi.’
‘Arrey wah! I am from Anand Nagar.’
Pandurangwadi and Anand nagar are adjacent lanes.

Both of us have lived our lives there.
Both of us are Mechanical Engineers.
Both of us were vegetarians.
Both of us ordered Chole Baturey.
Both of us missed Vada pav.
Both of us were returning in a week to the adjacent lanes.

Both us had been made redundant.

Similarities can be painful sometimes.

Wednesday, 2 July 2008

L(unch) and T(ea) days - Part 3 - Journey back home

Venky pulls a chair and sits with us. I feel that he kind of knew about who did the work in our group. So he directly looks at Amit and asks, ‘Did you get the paper on Desublimation from the IIT library?’

‘Not yet sir. We did not have access to the IIT Library. I think we need a letter from you to show it to the librarian.’ Another piece of pure genius.

Fact: We don’t even know where the library is located inside the IIT Campus. We have been to the campus twice before.

Once, for submitting the forms of JEE, when we were really inspired about the whole thing and thought that getting into something like AIR 350 would be a cake walk. But then, I don’t like small numbers. So I added a zero to that and ended up being AIR 3500.

I think I still have all the unused Brilliant Tutorials material in my house. It was used for two purposes. My mom sometimes used to roll puris and keep them inside the books before frying them, so that they are not stuck against each other while taking them off for frying. And my brother used to carry one of the books to his school to play book cricket with his friends. No wonder, neither me nor my sporty brother ended up anywhere near the IITs.

Second time was for doing our Communication Skills Assignment. Can you believe it if I say we did our Communication Skills assignment in the Tribology lab at IIT Bombay? Yes, you have to.

Venky then starts explaining about the Desublimation process for the 348th time. And again, only Amit understands it and the rest of us are nodding like Joey. I doze off for a second and suddenly Abhi pinches me and I wake up to see Venky has left.
Amit has already written 15 pages of notes from the discussion. He and Santo are discussing about some concept of Heat and Mass Transfer which they could apply to the project, while me and Abhi go to drink water, discussing about the political scene in Maharashtra.

So, project discussion is over and now we need to get out of our ‘adda’.
As we walk out of the North Block, Abhi suggests that we should go over to his place, do some VB coding for the project, watch some TV and eat Bhel and Pani puri.

Project work for Amit, TV for Santo who wanted to see the match and Food for me. Nice marketing Abhi!

So, we go to the bus stop and wait for the famous ‘Filterpada’ bus. What a funny name for a place! Filterpada. We always used to tease Abhi about this place. Does the name mean everybody’s taps have water filters attached or something? I really don’t know. All I know is, Abhi used to run after the bus every time we used to leave L&T. Every single time. He has never reached the bus stop before the bus. He always used to see the bus go past us and then run unsuccessfully to catch it. Hmmm, probably that was purposely done by him to get some exercise every week.

And funnily, today there is no sign of the bus as we walk towards the bus stop. Santo is discussing about an E-Commerce assignment we had to submit on Friday, about how he cut the answers short and submitted a 3 page assignment. Important point was that there was not even a single answer which made sense since he had copied alternate lines from Amit’s assignment.

Forget about the poor E-Commerce professor, I think William Shakespeare would have died once again in his grave if he had read one of the answers from that assignment.

I am shattered when I hear this from Santo. How could he do this to me? I assumed his assignment was a ‘true copy’ and cut his assignment into half in the same manner and submitted a 3 page assignment with much bigger handwriting. I should have read atleast one complete sentence before copying. But then if you write an assignment in the midst of playing ‘Bollywood Hollywood’ in class, then these mishaps are bound to happen. I am sorry Will.

Yes, the bus has arrived. We get into the bus and get into the seats on the left side of the bus, because there is sun on the other side. But then, you cannot win against the sun, can you? The bus took a number of turns and now the sun was right in my eyes as I was ogling at a Gujju babe standing at a bus stop.

We are back to our best, talking about the Mumbai traffic, E-Commerce assignments, Gujju babes, Kurla’s famous Panipuri waala, bus conductors' unwillingness to give change, as the bus slowly crawled towards Kurla, where Abhi lived. I think we could have walked faster than the bus. But then, we are paunchy people, out of which one person's only exercise in a week is to run 100m towards a bus stop.

(to be continued)

Sunday, 29 June 2008

oorath therinjikitten ulagam purinjikitten kanmani en kanmani
njaanam porandhiruchchu naalum purinjiduchchu kanmani en kanmani
pachchak kozhandhaiyinnu paalootti valarththen
paalak kudichipputtu paambaagak koththudhadi kanmani en kanmani


I have understood this place, I have understood this world.
Knowledge has been gained, realization has dawned.
I had given milk to this hungry child
Now it has turned into a snake and is biting me back.
I have understood this place, I have understood this world.

Saturday, 21 June 2008

L(unch) and T(ea) days - Part 2 - Conference Room

I think this blog has seen too much of blue of late. Let’s change the mood with some good ol’ nostalgia.

We walk across huge metal monsters called heat exchangers and reach the North Block, which housed the Heavy Engineering Division. Quite unlikely division for atleast Amit and me. Both of us together weighed less than a quintal I think. Yeah, for that I would have had to remove my half-a-ton-wallet which I was famous for in college. I think people seriously thought I had ‘some’ problem when they saw the huge wallet protruding from my pant. For your information, I used to somehow squeeze the not so small wallet in the front pocket of my unwashed-for-two-months-jeans.

As we enter the building, Abhi is still convincing Amit that we did not have to send any excel sheet for that week. So, here is Mr. Datta, who was kind of like our assistant guide. But, I am still unable to get over the fact that for a whole year, I repeat, for a whole year, we did not finish a single task assigned by him.

What an achievement! What a bunch of shirkers! What a great manager!

‘Good Morning guys, did you work on the Tube sheet?’
‘It was the flange design I had asked to write a macro for. Did you guys do that?’
‘Oh! That one? We sent it last week itself. Abhi, you mailed it na?’
‘Yes sir. I think there is a problem with L&T firewall. It seems to be not receiving our emails’ (clap clap clap)
‘Hmmm…Ok. Send it to my personal id. I will take care of it.’ (I think he was secretly plotting to either kill us or send us to an uninhabited island. Poor guy.)

Now we move on to our main guide who is busy ,as usual. He was as absent minded as a scientist. He had just given us access from the main gate, but on seeing us he would give a surprised look and say

‘Oh! Today is Friday? When did you guys come? Can you please wait in the conference room? I will be there in a while.’

The conference room was a small room with a table and eight chairs. It also housed a zillion books on Heat and Mass transfer, German and British Standards and lots of other mechie techie stuff which only Amit had an idea about. For us, three mechanical engineers, they were books in Hebrew. Infact I think Abhi would know more about Hebrew than mechanical engineering. We can talk about that later.

This conference room was our ‘adda’ every Friday. This is where we discussed about everything from Mallika Sherawat to Manmohan Singh, from Nanotechnology to Porn, from Marathi literature to Tamil songs, from crushes to mathematical puzzles, from economics to ‘geometry’ ;-) Everything. This was our street. We played by our rules.

Amit: ‘Abhi, I had told you that we had to submit something for today.’
Me: ‘We had nothing to submit for today. This was supposed to be submitted a month back. I thought he would have forgotten about it. Elephant memory. Saala.’
Santo: (laughs) ‘Kal Sehwag ne kya catch drop kiya yaar’
Abhi: ‘Its ok we can do it this week. I got my call letter from Wipro. I am going to have a medical test sometime this week.’
Me: ‘Tujhke dekhke I feel you will pass all tests except the fertility test.’

Amit starts reading from one of the books from the shelf. It was about Thermal resistance or something, I don’t know what. More importantly, I don’t care. Me and Abhi are more interested in discussing about one of our batchmates love life.

‘Hey, you know what, R gave a huge bouquet to M. It was as big as her. She was floored it seems.’
‘Hmm..some people have all the money dude. I don’t think I can even buy a cutting-chai to my girl friend, if ever I get one. Sigh.’
‘Don’t worry about not having a girl friend dude. Just believe in one theory. Hot girls get ch**tiya boyfriends and handsome guys get ordinary girlfriends. We are no-way near handsome, so someone else should worry not us.

Just as we are discussing one of the most important theories in life after Newton’s law of gravity, that Venky walks in. There is a hushed silence. Its like a mortuary out there.

(to be continued)

I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter

Friday, 20 June 2008

A truth from Aamir...

Kaun kehta hai aadmi apni kismat khud likhta hai?
Sab bakwaas hai...

How true!!!

You never realize this until destiny hits you on your face and you are absolutely helpless with its sheer magnitude and turbulence.

I have.

Friday, 13 June 2008

Spam -a - lot

I was just checking my spam mail box. Boy! What do people think about me?
Got so many different view points, that I am confused as to what to do now.

Somebody wants to sell me fake degrees. Hmm..would help in my job search. Help me get a very stable job. In jail.

Somebody wants to sell me Viagra. Well, on further investigation, 264 people want to sell me Viagra,

Some Brando thinks I am a woman!!!! She is giving me tips on female masturbation. Never knew my name sounded feminine. Krithika? God, no.

One guy wants to pay cash for minor injuries. Dude, I hardly get out of home. Probably that's why he wants to pay me cash and encourage me to get out of this bed and go out and get injured. Po da.

Kathy (Ah, now I know why I was mistook for being a girl. Karthik or Kathy or Katie) thinks I look really stupid. :(
I know I have a bad haircut, have not shaved for a week, have ugly teeth, but still she was rude. This is not a way to tell people on the face.Baahhhhh!!!!

Joe thinks somebody loves me. Ok, I assume Joe is a guy. So he thinks I am Kathy as well. Oh my god! Get me out of here.
Or, is he gay? I was once felt in a late night bus in London and I know how freaked out I was. Stay away from me you idiot. 'Tumhare baap aur bhai nahi hai kya?' :P

Maria, is giving me tips to act longer in bed. I already act very long in bed. I meant I sleep for 12 hours a day on my bed. :P

Somebody save me please.

Some useless statistics..

These statistics pertain to the last 5 days.

1 - Meal(s) I have in a day
6 - People I talked to, personally
47 - People I talked to, on phone
166 - Emails sent
173 - Emails received (excluding mails which talk about the size of my genitals)
3 - Times I ventured out of my house
12 - Movies seen
28 - Episodes of FRIENDS watched
13 - Cups of tea I drank

bah! I have too much time with me!!!


Yippee! I am going to Brussels and Amsterdam tonight. Hopefully, the weekend will take me 'high'er and get me out of this mental shit I am in right now. I really need some alcohol. Sometimes, it does act like 'Kiwi Dranex', clearing the mess in our system.

Wednesday, 11 June 2008

Gautam Buddha says...

‘Accept the pain’

He has been saying that to me for the last 4 fucking months!!!

Enough, okay!

I deserve better.

Or maybe not, maybe I deserve worse.

Is this the best you have got?

Here I am in front of you. Naked.
Naked with no shame, no self respect, no pretensions, no guilt, no love, no pride, nothing.

Just pure me. With a heart for a fight.

Give it to me, I am ready.

One more drop in the ocean doesn't make any difference.

Brother is a friend given by God!

Dear kutti bro Arjun,

Hopefully everything is fine in Mumbai. I had heard that its raining quite a bit there, so hopefully you have time to have a nice chai and batata wada in our balcony. If not, please do that for my sake.

They say you will understand the person’s importance only in his absence. How true! I am just miserable out here. I understood how lucky I was, that you were here during those terrible times. Wonder how I could have handled them myself without your stupid jokes and analogies to tamil movies. When I returned home from the airport after sending you off, I could sense the emptiness in me as well in the house. It was scarily silent. I just wanted to get away from there. I rang up 5-6 of my friends and went to their place since I could not stand the loneliness. I missed you lots!

Though mostly you put up a mature front, you showed you were actually a kid when you received your results. That was the moment when I trembled and realised how much you had changed about yourself just to make me comfortable. I don’t know how to thank you for that da. I know you would say I can thank you by getting you an Ipod Touch. 

Hopefully, everything will be alright and we could play Wii Tennis and watch Vivek comedy and eat Pani puri and fight over the remote control.

Miss you kutti paiyya,

Sunday, 8 June 2008

The Square Root of 3

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

(Source: Harold and Kumar)

Wednesday, 28 May 2008


AR Rahman’s Music.
Yuvraj’s six sixes on Youtube.
Robin Cooper’s ‘Timewaster Diaries’
Nice South Indian Dinner at Saravana Bhavan.
Chat with an old friend 4000 miles away.
Watch FRIENDS for the umpteenth time.
Still no sleep.

Still the same question.

Why me? :-(

Tuesday, 27 May 2008


1997: ‘Congratulations Karthik! For coming first in the entire school in 8th Standard’
‘How did you manage to not lose a single mark in Maths and Social Studies throughout the year? Great yaar!!’

This too shall pass.

1998: ‘We have never seen such a disgusting character before. I think you should be given TC from this school. We don’t want such students in our school, especially when you are going to represent the school next year in Class X.’

This too shall pass.

1999: ‘We never thought you would plunge to such depths. Your English score does not show that you have studied in English medium school, it looks like you are from Marathi medium’
‘I am sorry yaar, you missed Kelkar college cut off by 1 mark’

This too shall pass.

2001: Admissions counselling
‘which college which branch?’
‘VJTI mech?’
‘Sorry, it just got full three ranks before you. That guy with the blue shirt was the last one’
This too shall pass.

2004: ‘Lets see how far your SSLC parents take you. Its going to be very difficult for you, life’s tough. Your horoscope says so as well.’

This too shall pass.

2005: ‘College Gold medal, IIMA admission, Treat!!!!!!’

This too shall pass

‘If you don’t accept that you have copied, you would have to be removed from the institute’
‘You have been given Incomplete grade for insufficient attendance. You would not be granted admission to Second year of your course.’

This too shall pass

2007: ‘Welcome to Lehman brothers’
‘We liked what we saw and would like to hire you for BCG’
‘Would you like to join the credit structuring desk?’

This too shall pass.

2008: ‘We are sorry to inform you that you have been made redundant. You can take your belongings and leave the office immediately.’

This too shall pass.

Wednesday, 23 April 2008

Sporty Religion

From Cricinfo

After that breathtaking 50-ball century in Mohali, this was Michael Hussey's first home game and the roars and chants of his name as he walked out to bat were similar to those that will greet Lionel Messi later tonight when he steps onto the Nou Camp turf. The silence when he inside-edged one from Dhawal Kulkarni was all-pervasive and it suggested that IPL fans are quickly becoming one-eyed, like every good home crowd should be.

The sole exception was when Sachin Tendulkar was spotted on TV, talking to the commentators. God, after all, transcends parochial boundaries


Wednesday, 27 February 2008


A lazy Sunday morning.
Me, K and A started out for our weekly ritual – buying groceries and other mundane stuff from ASDA, a store as big as a cricket stadium, where you can get 346 varieties of yoghurt, so much variety that, if you are as lazy as me, you would be turned off from buying the product all.
As we trudged along from our house, we felt the crispness of the wet breeze from over the river.

Me: It’s cold this weekend, isn’t it
K: Nahin yaar, I am not feeling cold at all, infact I am kind of sweating.
Me: That’s because you would have been wearing 4 layers of clothing.
K: Nooo! I am just wearing a Tshirt and this jacket.
Me: I can’t believe you. I am wearing a thermal vest, a t-shirt, a sweater and a jacket and still I am feeling coooooold!!!
A: I am not feeling that cold, but I am not sweating either. Maybe, it’s because of the breeze.
K: Tatt-2, I think you should get yourself tested. You might have some problem yaar. You shouldn’t be feeling this cold. The weather is getting better.
A: Leave it. If he’s feeling cold, let him feel cold. Let him wear one more sweater. Tatt-2, if you want, you can wear my jacket. I would be comfortable without it too.

I took the thick leather jacket from A and wore it. After 10 mins of travelling inside a train, we get down at a station and start walking towards the store.

Me: I am still feeling cold.
K: I have been telling you tatt-2, you seriously have a mental problem. You are wearing such a thick jacket, still you are feeling cold? Strange!
A: Will you guys stop. Time to do some shopping now.

While we were walking inside the store, I dropped a biscuit packet. While I bent down to pick it up, the realization hit me.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, even a thick leather jacket cannot prevent me from feeling cold. Even if I wore a thick sweater over that, I would still feel cold. Sometimes, if you get such a strong overbearing realization about something, you chuckle. You laugh at your helplessness. I was so overwhelmed that I just stayed there and gasped at the ultimate truth of the chillness I was feeling. The truth which gave me anger and laughter at the same time. The truth which made my head hung in shame and which was laughing at me cruelly.

The truth was: My fly was open.

Sunday, 24 February 2008

Late - Latif to Early - Murli

Places change you.

I am this typical late commer. I had a 100% record in coming late to class during my engineering days. Since in engineering, the benches get occupied from back to front, I was a non-intentional front bencher because of my punctuality or the lack of it. My friend Amit, sometimes used to get so pissed that he used to call me half an hour before the actual time for group meets so that I make it to the meetings just 10 minutes late.

Infact, I also got a career threatening 'Incomplete' grade during my MBA because I missed 3 classes due to coming late.

But nothing changed.

I started working and this is where I received the shot on my head. I entered my desk 5 minutes late at 7:35, and my boss greets me 'Good Afternoon, Karthik!' with a sarcastic grin. He had slapped me a thousand times and given me 500 lashes without even raising his hand. I got the SMS he sent me.

Nowadays, I am the first person in my desk. Even during my recent visit to India, we friends met at a common place and I reached there 5 mins before time much to their astonishment. This punctuality has made me feel s good about myself. It has given me confidence and doesn't make me defensive right from the beginning wherein I would have to explain/apologize for late coming.
But then, sometimes, in some situations, I do think it is better to err on the side of being late than early. You can't win everything, can you?

Wednesday, 13 February 2008


Day: Friday
Time: 11:00pm

‘Amma, what are your plans for tomorrow?’
‘We are going for a function in the afternoon’
‘Can you please be at home at around 2pm tomorrow? I would be online. We can do video chat through skype.’
‘OK da. We would try to be at home by that time. Tomorrow is Saturday. So, there would be electricity in the afternoon’

Day: Saturday
Time: 2:05pm

‘Amma, are you and appa at home?’
‘Yes da. Are you going to come online? We will turn the computer on.’
‘yeah, in five minutes’

Time : 2:10pm

‘Amma, are you guys online?’
‘Yes da. Webcamera is also working well. Why are you not online?’
‘Ummm…actually, there is a problem with my net connection. I don’t think I can come online today. We can talk over phone’
‘Po da..We wanted to see your face. Haven’t seen you in a while. Today even our webcam is working. So we were looking forward to a video chat with you. Cha, you disappointed us!’
‘Are you really looking forward to seeing my face?’
‘Yes. Please fix your net connection somehow. Else, send some MMS to Arjun. Please!’
‘Awww..OK, if you really want to see me, just open the door’
‘Yeah, open the door’

Tickets from London to Mumbai: INR* 40,000
Rickshaw from airport to station: INR 200
Fine to TTE for not buying ticket and sitting in first class compartment: INR 500
Rickshaw to home: INR 50
Reaction on a mother’s face on seeing her son who turns up out of the blue on a Saturday morning from 5000 miles away: Priceless!

Note: * I am a Forex Structurer.

Friday, 4 January 2008


Matches: 4
Scores: 148*, 45,4,241*,60*,154*
Total runs: 652
Average: 326

Time to rechristen the place as Sachin Cricket Ground?

Thursday, 3 January 2008

Closer or farther?

Date: 19 December 2007

10:00 am: Wake up lazily.
11:00 am: Leave the house after taking bath.
11:30 am: Reach the restaurant. Order Podi dosai, thayir vadai, parotta kurma.
12:15 pm: After slurping the goodies, go for a walk.
12:30 pm: Enter a shop, pick up Kumudam, Ananda Vikatan.
Listen to Bheema’s songs in the shop. Harris with his typical tunes.
1:15 pm: Watch ‘Billa’ in theatre.
4:30 pm: Come home and make Pulikaichal saadham. (Tamarind Rice)
5:00 pm: Start watching ‘Kondattam’ on tubetamil.com
6:00 pm: Talk to parents.
7:00 pm: Go to my chitti’s place for some poojai.
9:00 pm: Eat dinner with aviyal
10:00 pm: Discuss about the possibility of Rajnikant in ‘Robot’
11:00 pm: Sleep.

Location: லண்டன்!!