tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55151247314175543872024-02-07T00:50:53.641-08:00Eternal Sunshine Of A Spotless BehindCapt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-7970600726141999512019-06-01T08:33:00.002-07:002019-06-01T08:33:43.971-07:00The Weekend Rigmarole<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I write after a long hiatus of ~ 8 years. It isn’t that I
haven’t given a thought to writing in these 8 years, let me just put it this
way, “there wasn’t too much to write about which wasn’t already being discussed
on the internet”. With all the “noise” that surrounds us these days on social
media, the good old blogs have lost relevance. Everything has become smaller –
our gadgets have reduced in size; our homes have become more compact and so has
our attention span. Drawing a parallel from Cricket: it’s the T-20 version (Twitter,
Snapchat) which has become the apple of the eye and the good old test match (blogs,
articles, Op-Eds etc.) is losing its sheen. Nevertheless, I want to take a
plunge today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I had the pleasure of going on a leisurely evening drive
along with my father-in-law and the missus today. (I am visiting my in-laws).
We saw lots of countryside during the 2-hour drive and absorbed the beauty as
much as we could. We saw young kids playing in the fields, animals wander
carefree in their natural habitat, local village folks sitting outside their
homes and chatting. It seemed we were in a different world altogether, a world
which does not worry about the traffic that builds up once people start leaving
office, a world which does not care about what to cook at night (for they make
do with whatever they have), a world which does not know that something called
the internet exists (let alone the shenanigans of social media). At one of the
spots, ~ 40 kms from my in-laws’ town something incredible happened. We stopped
for a cup of tea and the tea vendor knew my father-in-law. After being
introduced as his daughter and son-in-law, the tea seller did not want to let
us go empty handed and quickly rushed to his home to get some local delicacy
which he could give to us. This had us (missus and me) thinking if our
generation, or the ones to come, could ever establish the bond/connect that our
fathers’ generation has. Moreover, with us living in cities and chasing our
metaphorical dreams, is it even possible to have such a bonding? This took me to
one of my favourite subjects: ‘Technology’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you were to ask me, what is the greatest invention that
man has produced in my lifetime, my answer to that would be ‘Internet’. With
internet coming in, distances have reduced, information parity has increased
and the applications of information technology has created employment and
provided so much convenience to the lives of the people. I would be using
internet and technology almost interchangeably from here on in the blog,
assuming that I have made my point. With anything that creates so much
positive, there ought to be a flip side to it which is often ignored. While
internet has made us self-sufficient and independent in our cash-rich but
time-poor lives, it has minimized human interaction altogether. Let me take a
stab at all instances in my daily life where I adopt technology – I book a cab
for my office commute, I order grocery while on my way to office (to be
delivered at a later time), I order lunch, I get back home to realise I had
forgotten to take the packet of salt which was much needed at home, I <i>Dunzo </i>it
and it reaches home in 20 mins. Having the convenience to book the cab at my
finger-tips does prevent me from the haggling I need to do with my auto-wallah
but more often than not, I do not even know the person who is driving me. If
there is any confusion with regards to which route to take, I do not even need
to speak to anybody for Google Maps provides me real time satellite imagery
with expected time to reach my destination. The good old charm of bargaining
with the family grocery store has been replaced by tons of VC-backed cashbacks
that the grocery app offers. The only way I come to know of any new snack stall
that has opened in my locality is by seeing it in the food delivery app. If it’s
not there, it doesn’t exist for me. And at 9:30 pm in the night, when I
realise, I had to bring a packet of salt and it presents me with an opportunity
to borrow it from the neighbor (& in the process get familiar), the Dunzo
App constantly reminds me of ‘Why Fikar, Dunzo Kar’. This takes me back to the
pertinent question, will our generation ever be as close to the eco system
(physically) as our previous generation is? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Is it a question of the <i>Jio-fication</i> (internet
penetration) levels being low and hence the smaller towns still have their old-world
charm preserved and intact? Or does the average small time person chase greater
things in life like spending time with family than chase materialistic
pleasures like a hefty pay hike, the next foreign trip, the next modern car
etc. Sometimes I wonder if our generation ever got its priorities right. Most
of us leave our homes and stay away from parents and are often not with them on
regular days when they would need us. Instead, we are chasing our dreams and
trying to stand on our own so that one day, we will be able to suffice for what
may come. In the process, we end up staying apart for most of the time in order
to be able to support when in future we stay together. Blessed are those who do
not have to leave their parents or homes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The other day I was watching a movie and there was a scene
where some foreigners were being taken through ‘Dharavi’ (Asia’s largest slum,
in Mumbai), and were being given the tour of homes inside the slums in exchange
of money. This is a legitimate business where the tourist is curious to see how
the slum folks stay and are genuinely willing to pay money to get a glimpse of
it. I now think of it, we are moving one step back (or front depending on the
way you view it) and getting ourselves familiarized with our rural eco system.
With the fad on farming increasingly getting popular in cities, people are now opting
for a village-like living on weekends in the garb of adventure. The day is not
far when we will re-connect with our rural counterparts and get amazed at how
simple living can cure most of our technology inflicted urban stress. I often
wonder if I should move back to a small town set-up and start living a more
meaningful life where valuing the other person’s life and giving him/her the
required time is going to matter more than earning quick bucks at the cost of
time. I also wonder that whenever my baby is born, I would want to give her/him
a taste of how the world looked like in the absence of technology – when writing
letters had its own charm, power cuts in the evening signaled time to play out
with other kids with no dearth of open spaces to play and not having to book a
court using an app. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But I then back out. For it is time for my only free
2-hours-per-week-to-do-things-i-want-to to end, I have plethora of excel sheets
to analyse and prepare a weekly report to be presented to my boss the next day,
which would position me good in my professional equation at work & augur
well for my incumbent appraisals which would then make me earn extra bucks
every month, help me go to Europe for vacations, buy insurance for myself and
my family and what all and what not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-27416702008348776462012-01-21T12:19:00.000-08:002012-01-21T12:27:00.522-08:00Sorry Anna Hazare, this new year I let you down.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hello folks,</div>
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<i>Disclaimer: I swear by Arindham Chaudhary’s literary skills
that I won’t talk about my job, given the fact that I crib about it almost
every day on facebook. </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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Okay I know I am 22 days late but as they say better late
than never and since this is my first post in the new year so Happy New Year
people.</div>
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One thing that amazes me about New Years is the way people
make a lot of hue and cry about the New Year resolutions and then with most of
them (Me included) it fades away in no time. You can attribute various reasons
to it but I ‘m sure you would have never heard of what follows:</div>
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Of how my new year resolution parted ways with me even
before the sun of 1<sup>st</sup> of January could rise.</div>
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First let me tell you what it was all about. Okay we all saw
Anna Hazare’s antics the previous year and though I do not totally abide by
what he preaches but somewhere within me it did raise questions of contributing
my bit to remove corruption from the day to day incidents that I face and so,
wearing the metaphorical “Anna Topi”, I
vowed never to bribe anyone for whatsoever reasons.</div>
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<b><u>Act 1 Scene 1, 31<sup>st</sup> December Night, Chandigarh</u></b></div>
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After yet another hectic day out in the field in Jalandhar
(no not the paddy fields ofcourse), I set out to go to Chandigarh to meet other
friends and to be in some company while embracing the new year. It was while I
was on my way to Chandigarh, sitting in the erratic Punjab Transport bus going
through the bumpier-than-Vidya-Balan’s-body road, that the Anna in me spawned
and hence I too had a NYR (Read: New Year Resolution).</div>
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After reaching Chandigarh and after meeting my long lost friends we had an uninterrupted bashing session which
comprised of bash-your-boss and bash-your-job and praise-the-other-guy’s-job-grass-on-the-other-side-greener
session for close to an hour and then started the usual booze session. With my
pace that night I knew I was up for something really big. I disclosed my NYR
with others and they mocked at me and my NYR as if I had told them that my
favourite actor in the whole world was Tusshar Kapoor. While others had just
got a hang of the booze, I was already on another world by then but still
consistent at my pace just like Vinay Kumar’s bowling. At that time I mentioned
my NYR again, still not sure if I could actually convey what I wanted to, given
the state I was in. At that moment, we
decided to go for a drive in a friend’s car inspite of being alerted by a <i>phattu-friend </i>that it is Chandigarh and
full of Police checkposts at night (yes, we guys have this stupid ego of
teasing the ghost). </div>
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<b><u>Act 1 Scene 2, Driving through Chandigarh.</u></b></div>
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<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
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We could see a check-post at a distance from inside the car
and at that very instance, the song <i>Sadi
Gali </i> started playing. I had carried
my bottle inside the car and by then was as normal as Rakhi Sawant is in her
interviews. Seeing this, one bastard of a friend threw a gauntlet at me
challenging me to get down of the car
when we get close to the check post, show some newly learnt Punjabi dance moves
and tease the policemen and come back.</div>
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Men will be men.</div>
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I was no less a man. Seriously. Question of my ego. I
grabbed the challenge with both hands as any batsman in the world does when
Sreesanth comes to bowl. The car neared the post. I got down. Went a step
ahead. Showed my Bhangra Moves and just when the policeman threw his danda @
me, ran back to the car which had already taken a u-turn by then and got into
it thereby showing a middle finger to the policeman(still don’t know why) and
we got back, me feeling proud of my achievement and others hilariously
laughing.</div>
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As we were going from a god-only-knows road, we saw another
check-post at a distance. </div>
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Instantly and unanimously it was understood that we had to
do the same act here too.</div>
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Now I hate Marconi, yes the Italian son of a bitch who
invented wireless.</div>
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We were unaware of the fact the the drama at the previous
checkpost had led to the policemen transmitting the message at every other
posts alerting them of the colour,make and number of our car.</div>
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But by that time, I was as lost from my senses as Mayawati
is in the parliament. I took it as an unsaid responsibility on me to repeat my
act and just as we could get close to the post, we played <i>Sadi Gali </i>again (Somehow this song just pumps up my dance hormones
or should I say used to pump up). I got down. Went ahead, this time a bit
more ahead without realizing and started my antics. Before I could understand,
there were policemen running from all directions towards me. I ran towards the
car which was running ahead of me (buggers realized that it was a trap and were
leaving me and running away).</div>
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All of us got caught. </div>
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After a slur of MC and BC used as salutation
purposes to refer to us, we (being the sales guys we are, oh sorry somewhere I
had to mention my profession), taken to the police chowki and on the verge of
getting behind the bars, somehow managed to convince the cops by bribing the
eight of them a sum of 20 grands.</div>
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Half of which had to be shelled out by me, partly because no
one else had that much then and partly because I was playing the protagonist.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We returned back home and no one spoke a word again about
mine or any goddamn NYR.</div>
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I feel sorry for my younger brother who will have to wait
for yet another month to get his new handset.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Last but not the least, I am sorry to you, Anna Hazare for
letting you down.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>P.S: The above
narrated incident is a figment of my imagination and any resemblance to anyone
living or dead is purely co-incidental. I also want to use this very occasion
to claim that I have been abstaining myself from alcohol and that actually is
my NYR.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
</div>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-80948071373340603972011-10-02T13:09:00.000-07:002011-10-02T13:11:01.256-07:00An Open Letter to Shahid Afridi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hello Mr. Afridi,</div>
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Your recent comments corroborating an insane claim regarding
Sachin Tendulkar confirms your desperation to bring attention on to yourself. I
am also intrigued by the fact that even after knowing the fact that every time
you open your mouth (be it in front of the media or in the presentation
ceremony), you leave no stone unturned to make a mockery of yourself, still you
go on raising up that bar of shamelessness time and again….In fact with your
latest antics, you have left me puzzled as to who between the two of you, (Yes
You dumbfuck) and Shoaib Akhtar, is the more shameless one or is it like both
of you sat together and decided that “lets explore new avenues of self-mockery
now that our cricket seems to have seen its end”….Oh I’m so sorry you guys can’t
converse in such chaste English…my bad.</div>
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Seems like both of you have taken a bet on who is dumber of
the two of you. My sympathies are with Shoaib Akhtar and please convey it to
him the next time you meet him for to me he is a retard on whom Allah hasn’t
bestowed upon a brain to think…and it’s
a fact he himself has proven to the whole world on many occasions..so I refrain
from commenting on it and will go by the lines of Shoaib Malik…that “When his
own family does not take him seriously, why should others”</div>
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Coming back to you…yes you never seemed to be the bad-mouthed
moron until now when you chose to go down the Akhtar way.</div>
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Well, I have vowed to myself not to talk to you presenting
statistics and that is primarily for 2 reasons:</div>
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1.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>Your immature, uneducated brain will find it too
hard to understand it</div>
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2.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>You won’t even get a rat’s ass to hide your face
if I do a comparision between your’s and Sachin’s statistics</div>
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So I prescribe go and talk to Abdul Qadir…I have heard in
your initial days you tried to model yourself upon him….Go ask him about the
stature of Tendulkar….he would tell you how after a provocation that he had
once made to Tendulkar…he got hammered all round the park….28 runs in an over….that
being Sachin’s debut series. Go ask Wasim Akram what had he uttered when Abdul
Razzaq dropped Tendulkar during the 2003 World Cup match….he had said,”Bh*****d
tujhe pata bhi hai tune kiska catch choda hai”……such is his stature. In our
country he is worshipped no less than a God and why only our country…the world
around, I shall lay down a couple of instances of what people have had to say
about him you pugnacious-nonsensical-shithole:</div>
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Mathew Hayden (during his tour to India in 1998),”I have
seen God, he bats for India at number 4 in Tests”</div>
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Hashim Amla (who supposedly has a fear of flights and once
after a flight in which both the Indian & South African team were
travelling together, he was asked by a journalist as to how was he feeling, he
replied),”I felt alright. After all we had the God travelling with us”</div>
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I know these things are difficult for you to understand for
in the culture that you have been brought up, bitching and fighting with others
is the order of the day. It seems that the only picture you have in your
bedroom is that of Tendulkar….I suggest you remove it..for its maligning the
sanctity of the picture to be there in the home of a beard-scratching-psycho
like you. </div>
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To remind you of your own antics…you have taken 2 temporary
retirements from cricket…..now what under the sun is this temporary retirement
will you please explain….you rat-fucking-bastard....The state of affairs of
cricket in your nation makes it seem to be like some kind of a reality show.
Trust me even our Rakhi Sawant is more consistent in her opinions than the
decisions of your cricket board. You seem to be possessing a very weak memory….It
seems you have forgotten how after a comment of yours about the fragile
physique of Irfan Pathan saying it was unlike that of a real Pathan…he kept
rattling your stumps whenever you came to bat….you forgot how Gautam Gambhir,once,
gave you a piece of his mind in a completely Dilli-Style post which you never ever
dared him…You forgot how Sehwag has made your whole team look like a bunch of
jokers on the field..every time we play a test match or On every world cup when
both our teams have played against each other, how Tendulkar has clinically
overwhelmed your whole nation.</div>
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What have you done for your country or for the game of
cricket….except may be giving that statue-of-liberty kind of pose (hands making
a V and legs making an inverted V) whenever you take a catch or a wicket…Even
on that front we have surpassed you…I suggest you take lessons from Virat
Kohli-the official swearer of our team…and he will teach you the latest swears
he has caught up on the roads of Delhi…and show you how to use them whenever
you take a catch…believe me he looks much more macho and stylish than you do.</div>
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So next time, even in your wildest imaginations, do not
consider giving your fart-like opinions about legends like Tendulkar and Dravid
even if it is to generate publicity of a retard like Akhtar…for that will earn
you the wrath of your own countrymen (let alone others) and will stamp your
forehead with a </div>
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“I am a
brainless piece of shit” placard.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>And next time please take lessons from Rameez Raja on how to
speak English and pronounce it well…or better not try talking in English at all…else
the next time you travel to England…some English loving soul will kill you
alleging that you, with your English speaking attempts, were conspiring to come
up with a Baluchistani dialect of English.</i></div>
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Yours Truly</div>
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An avid cricket lover </div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-81061065156966233802011-09-13T14:20:00.000-07:002011-09-13T14:21:12.991-07:00Memories of a night<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The sun had gone down giving twilight its way…the birds were flying back post a tire-some day. I was returning home after an overdose of
play, tired and tottered in my own thoughts, I chose to take the shorter and
more obscure route to home this time.</div>
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Trudging down the railway tracks filled me with a weird
sense of joy and after all trains and its entire paraphernalia form a part of a
child’s memories atleast back here in India. But there was one thing that I
have always hated in life…so much so that till date I have never come to terms
with it….An eerie silence and an unnatural loneliness.</div>
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Nevertheless, the thought that the station lay ahead, made
me take the road less travelled.</div>
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On my way I saw a dog walking on the tracks along side
me…Not minding it at all and considering it as a company I chose to walk with
even more aplomb…..and suddenly the signal on the post ahead changed….this
re-arranged the railway tracks and the dog’s leg got stuck between the two. To
our (mine and the dog’s) dismay the change in the signal was for a train to
pass and within no time both of us saw a train approaching us with full vigour.
The dog was helplessly pushing itself trying to get its feet out and when it
failed consistently, it submitted itself to me. Now the creature was helplessly
looking at me and something in the nature told the dog that I was the bigger
and the smarter creature around and so I could save it. I tried everything
under me to help him take his feet out…even shouted for help but nothing would
change the fate that had already been written for the dog…The train came closer
and closer and the dog was looking at me for mercy….I tried the last time to no
result and then had to move back to save myself…..The train blew the thing away
into pieces!!!!!</div>
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The train had passed but the sound of the horn still
reverberated in my ears and the smoke was still visible even from a
considerable distance. </div>
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I did not have the guts to look back and was startled in
fact bemused and stunned at the way the things unfolded before me….Although it
was a dog but had been my companion even for a couple of minutes and after all
I had seen a death….and the fact that hit me even more harder was how we human
beings become a victim to our own desires and how at times we are as helpless
as other creatures around.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I mustered some courage and held my posture back and started
walking…this time faster to reach the station so as to counter the thoughts
with people around. But I could hear faint footsteps walking alongside me. I
dare not look anywhere but straight and walked even faster…..The sound of the
footsteps became even stronger and I had no choice but to look towards my
right……It was the same dog who had been walking along side me……</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was surprised to see the dog again especially after having
seen it being brittled into pieces in front of my own eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In all this confusion I never realized that I had myself
been walking on the tracks this time and when I did realize, the signal on the
post had already changed to make way for another passing-by train, thereby
re-arranging the tracks and locking my feet this time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The train was nearing me with all its speed and I was doing
everything under the sun to pull the feet out….The dog was looking at me and I
was numb now….knowing that death was certain…I didn’t know what to do….The
train was within a few metres now….and the dog moved back…..I closed my
eyes….and it was complete darkness thereof……The last thing I could remember was
how the train thrust itself upon me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I opened my eyes and it was still dark…..I wanted to know
whether it was hell or heaven……None: was the realization. I was still in my own
world….on my own bed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Never realized why this weird dream happened to me…..first
the dog undergoing a sequence of events only to realize that I too will undergo
the events in the same fashion…may be to highlight the value of life and the
way we spend it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nevertheless it was a chilly winter night and I preferred to
think less and continue my tryst with my sleep.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>P.S: The above
mentioned account bears resemblance to a piece that I had read somewhere and happened to me a few
days back in my dream….So today while deciding what to blog on, I took this as
a matter. Writing everything according to what I had read somewhere loooong
back (forgotten where) and it was in my subconscious mind and so re-appeared as
a night-mare a couple of days back.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-23712041055616277952011-08-11T10:55:00.000-07:002011-08-11T10:55:13.362-07:00Life and Times of a Management Trainee in Sales & Marketing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Hello ppl,</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well it has been over 5 months since I passed out of college and joined my company as a Management Trainee in a Sales and Marketing role for a home grown FMCG.</div><div class="MsoNormal">I would like to highlight the life of an “MT” with the help of a conversation held with a few of my friends.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Before that, I would like to mention that the following conversation is totally a figment of my imagination and though some parts of it are true..most of it is imaginary and though confirms to reality deals with no one in particular as such.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let me introduce you to the characters of the conversation:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: That’s me and I am employed with a FMCG in Sales and Marketing, currently undergoing a stint @ Mysore and whenever time permits…and even when it doesn’t, I rush to Bangalore.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bodo: The character is employed with a B2B marketing firm in Bangalore.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Vikiya: A character employed with a leading IT firm in the role of Finance..oops IT..oops..Consulting may be… in Bangalore.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kapoor: <span> </span>A character employed with a telecom major in the field of marketing in Bangalore.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Karan: A character who has passed out from the same b-school as the above but has opted out of placements to start his own firm in Bangalore.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>One important convention for the most integral expletives : <o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>‘#’refers to Bhen%^od<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>‘G’: G#$nd<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So here it goes:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As usual, Gogo rushes off to Bangalore whenever possible and even though his job requires him to work 6 days a week, he has done some “setting” with his depot manager @ Mysore (finally showing some management skills) and takes an off on every Saturday to rush to Blore.</div><div class="MsoNormal">The context is post one such booze sessions that all of these have had:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: # saala life kya ho gya hai #...# depot mein 5 din G ghisne ke baad # kuch mann hi nahi karta hai karne ko.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bodo: (With half his eyes closed and trying everything under the sun to open them) # G mara gaya hai #...kya karein saala…ajeeb ho gaya hai life #</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: Saala u r atleast blessed to be in Blore…mera soch # Mysore mein..# kya bhaasha bolte hain # kuch samajh nahi aata…aur phir bhi kaam karna padta hai…# PG mein reh raha hoon #..room mate ka chehra dekhte hi KLPD ho jata hai…maa kasam..kya din aa gaye hain</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bodo: Abe office ka kya scene hai…koi bandi pata le…time pass ho jayega</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: # bandi ka naam mat le…1 hi bandi hai office mein..# naam hai “Chandra Kala”…# jaisa naam waise lakshan…# frustration ki seema paar ho gayi hai</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bodo: # sahi mein…kya soch ke Marketing kiye the…saala yeh din dekhna padega….# pata hai..college ne bigaad diya saala..JLT karwa karwa ke…kutta bana diya…saala college mein hi aisa hona chahiye tha humare saath…# tab akal aati..# din mein 1 time khaana cancel karwate…aur roz shaheed nagar ka chakkar lagwana chahiye tha…# tab pata chalta Sales kya cheez hai…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: # tu yeh sab chod..mere dad tto bolte hain..kyun itna padha likha..jab bada ho ke..ghoom ghoom kar sabun tel bechna hi tha</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kapoor Interrupts,,,: To gogo: # tu kam se kam FMCG mein hai…tera future bright hai.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bodo: # mera bhi yahi haal hai…saala..dar badar ki thokre kha kar..ghar lautna padta hai..baar baar yehi khayal aata hai..ki saala aaraam wala job chun lena chahiye tha…# G mara raha hoon main yahan par…sab ajeeb lag raha hai</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Vikiya in the mean while…has given no shit to the conversation and is in his own world.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo to Vikiya: abe tera kya scene hai…describe ur day in the office…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Vikiya: Kuch nahi #..koi kaam nahi hai mera..10 baje uthte hain..11 baje tak office..phir sutta maarne nikalte hain..phir thoda random net surf karte hain…phir lunch…phir sochte hain kya kiya jaye…isi tarah time pass karte hain…aur 4-5 bajte hi office se nikal jate hain.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(Ladies and Gentlemen…FYI Vikiya earns atleast 30 grands more than what Bodo or Gogo earn per month)</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hearing this..Gogo goes berserk</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: # vikiya…#..koi openings hain kya teri company mein</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kapoor: # Gogo..IT mein kaam karega…kuch tto sharam kar</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bodo: # Life ajeeb ho gaya hai kuch nahi samajh aa raha..kabhi kabhi lagta hai..# Karan ya Shenai kitne khush hain…life apne terms pe jee rahe hain…# mereko bhi aisi life jeena hai..# Gogo..kuch ghapla karte hain be..Land scams etc etc..aur paisa kama ke kuch dhandha shuru karte hain be</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: haan be…frustrate ho gya hoon #..depot stint ke name pe Mysore bhej diya hai…# lunch mein 6 rs ki thali khata hoon…dinner ka pata nahi….aur # har din 20 baar Kannada Gothilla bolna padta hai….# the other day sumbody asked me my name…and I replied..Kannada Gothilla</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Karan: Guys..I offer you equity in my firm…come and join me…lets do sumthing…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: # I wish I had a cushion in my life the way u have…# I assure..I would have resigned this very moment…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kapoor: # gogo…tera future to bright hai…tu FMCG mein hai</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bodo: # sab materialistic hai bhai….sab kuch…mereko yeh kaam nahi karna bhai..koi bacha lo…# kal<span> </span>Monday hai…phir se wohi kuttagiri shuru</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: # chup kar..abhi 2 baj rahe hain…mujhe subah 6 baje ki train pakad ke Mysore jana hai..# kutta ban gaya hoon</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kapoor: Gogo..tu kyun tension le raha hai…Tu FMCG mein hai…tera future bright hai..</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gogo: Maa behen ek kar doonga…phir se kisine yeh sentence bola tto…# jise apna dukhda sunao…ek hi baat bolta hai..”Tu FMCG mein hai…tension math le”…# kya mazaak hai.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">By this time.Vikiya and Karan have slept already…and others also doze off..leaving Gogo wondering..whether he should actually get up @ 6 in the morning to catch his train to Mysore.</div></div>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-55249659500262899422011-07-05T02:37:00.000-07:002011-07-05T02:37:10.201-07:00Beyond the last blue mountain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">hi friends,<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: 15.0pt;">Beyond the last blue mountain<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Sometimes it is too difficult and sometimes completely worthless</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Still with a ray of hope..he decides to keep giving it a try</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Turning and twisting till a thought strikes him, leaving him spell bound<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Who the fuck wants to sleep when I can see you with my eyes wide open”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">A flicker of an eyelid back, he used to own her, playing a pauper to his princess</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">In no time, the joy of being around has been superseded by a world full of responsibilities</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">With a quest to find herself, things have taken a different turn this time around</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Will it matter then when she loses him having herself found</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">It was characteristic of him to keep fighting and keep chasing his dreams</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">After all he had dreamt an entire paradise out of their lives</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">But the cracks were too immense to resurrect with the glimmer of hope gone</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Accepting his fate, he set out on a different journey altogether</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Still at times he finds the wind blowing the other way</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Reminiscent of memories from the past</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Making him long things that won’t ever last</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">And then it becomes unbearably tough to bear the pain</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Because he has seen what lies beyond the last blue mountain.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p>Cheers</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p>Nishit</o:p></div></div>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-18896536956683704802011-05-13T12:47:00.000-07:002011-05-13T12:47:06.448-07:00Quizzing : My First Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hello all,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yah it has been a long long break since I last posted something…and in the mean while a lot of things happened…a lot of things changed..I became a post-graduate…left my college and the 2 most awesome years of my life behind..and here I am a couple of weeks away from stepping into the corporate world..which shall be my second act into it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today I shall talk about Quizzing, practically the only religion that I follow. For everyone of us there is something that excites us, inspires us, keeps us going…at various stages of life we have something that plays that role for us in our lives….as a kid a bar of chocolate plays the role…as a teenager…sports play that role…Quizzing has played that role for me ever since I dived into the fascinating & unending world of Quzizing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I owe it greatly to my school (St. Mary’s Convent School, Jharsuguda) and more specifically to my G.K Teacher in standard-7, Mr. Asit Panigrahi for it was he who introduced me into the world of quizzing. He used to discuss current affairs with me every day and that propelled into me a habit of reading a Newspaper every day. The privilege of having a half an hour chat with him was enough of a motivation to keep me going. Soon I started loving it. The 2<sup>nd</sup> most important thing to have happened to me at that age was that one day I was just flipping the channels of my TV and suddenly spotted a Quiz show being hosted in one of the channels…I watched the complete show and to my utter surprise, I knew the answers to most of the questions..From that day onwards, Mr. Derek O Brien became my role model…and Bournvita Qujz Contest became my ulterior motive.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Then one day, a strange thing happened..NIIT came to our school to select a team for some inter-school Quiz Competition that they were to organize. It was then that I realized how many more such kids were there like me..who wanted to participate…the competition was intense..They first conducted a written G.K test to select 12 people..and randomly formed 6 teams of 2 each. The team winning the quiz that was to be followed, was to represent the school for the inter-school thing. I was delighted to be in one of the teams. But we lost the quiz that followed. We came runners-up. Ofcourse we got a pat on our backs for coming this far and a round of applause from the crowd. That was not to satiate me. As finalists of the intra-school quiz, we received invites for the inter-school quiz that was to be conducted. I, very religiously, went to the venue as if we were going to be one of the teams on stage. I chose the first row in the audience to park myself and was waiting for the action to begin…with a hope that I am not going to leave any question that passes to the audience. Destiny had it that, one of the teams coming from a nearby town could not make it to the venue for some reason. The organisors were in a fix as to what to do now. I don’t know what struck me. I got up and went and spoke to the Quizmaster and requested him, literally begged him to allow me to fill that missing team’s gap. They could have gone ahead with one team less but the desperation on my face moved the quizmaster. He asked me if I has a team-mate with me, I replied saying Yes (though I still had to figure out who that team-mate would be). Then he okayed my idea. I rushed into the audience segment and requested a guy from my school to become my team mate. After a lot of convincing, the guy agreed. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I remember each and every moment of that quiz. I was overjoyed. We won that quiz by a huge margin, thumping a tough team which was tipped as a favourite. The audience gave us a standing ovation when the quiz master revealed how we had made it into the stage. The Quiz master then came and hugged me…and surprised by my zeal and passion, whispered something to me..which I can never forget..”Keep Walking” were the words he said.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That was my first win in Quizzing...those days I used to have a bi-cycle..Only I know how speedily I rode the bicycle back home to show the cup that I had won to my parents. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That day onwards, it was no looking back for me. Quizzing, in a way, has become the motive of my life. I owe so much to Quizzing. It taught me to face my ecstasies and agonies alike..taught me to deal with the intense competitive world out there…and more importantly became a facet of my life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Since that day I have kept walking…religiously, honestly and passionately…and even till date the sight of a question mark excites, inspires and keeps me going.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Adieu for now</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Capt Krunch a.k.a Nishit</span></div></div>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-61391902464460499132010-10-20T23:30:00.000-07:002010-10-21T00:38:54.105-07:00Stop, Look and See<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hello,</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It has certainly been quite a while since I have been active on the blogging front. Blame it on my curriculum or my way of living. Perhaps it is aptly said that B-Schools are breeding grounds for break-ups and if u have survived one then there can be only 2 implications: either your love is strong enough to place you in the same bracket as Romeo-Juliet or weak enough that you don't give a damn about it...both cases are weird to me. Whatever it is I have nothing to do with it and quite evidently i have digressed right at the beginning of this post. Lets shrug off these <span style="font-style: italic;">trivial</span> things.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Title of this post has been <span style="font-style: italic;">inspired</span> from a Ruskin Bond chapter that I had studied in my standard 8th, ICSE. Well do not jump the gun by calling me a moron for remembering a <span style="font-style: italic;">rain-drops-falling-on-a-corrugated-tin-roof</span> Ruskin Bond chapter. It somehow struck me when i woke up this morning and this has made me blog today.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Past couple of months have been crazy and suddenly this morning i get up with a thought that we have precisely 4 more months before we pass out with flying colours (never understood this goddamn phrase in my 23 year life till now) and become a corporate slave. It is then that I made ammends. The thought of leaving the campus, friends and sacrificing the freedom we enjoy here completely blows me away so i will stay away from discussing it. What is more important is to hold oneself back for a while in this time-poor life of ours and realise a few things. For me it has always been a comparision with the objectives I had set for myself before joining this college and see how much I have been able to fill the pot. Before joining this place, I had always thought of MBA as a great value addition in one's life both in an economical as well as spiritual point of views. It certainly is a great value add but more off the class than in it. It is what you learn from colleagues, friends, circumstances, <span style="font-style: italic;">fire-in-their-ass</span> profs, non-sensical deadlines and unjust timelines etc. that counts.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I, as a matter of fact, find myself struggling to satiate myself when it comes to acquiring the gyaan that the textbooks flaunt or most of the profs teach. Well thats an ongoing process and I believe (an optimistic asshole that I am) I shall manage to do well enough to put myself decently. An element that I have been fairly satisfied with myself is being able to connect well with people around me. That quotient has pleased me right from the time I have been into this campus. The ability to deal with people, in most cases, is the key to a successful career in management (This shall soon be corroborated when a jobless American comes up with a book stating this and the entire intelligentsia will go gung-ho about it as if it was something as elementary as newton's laws). And this satisfaction, I think, is being projected today because last night i slept as a satisfied soul..satisfied with our efforts of..making a bunch of diverse thinking and unlike individuals come together as a team and curtail the distances among them. That moment of truth when i saw all of them rejoice..made the young boy in me jump out of jubilation...accentuating yet another intance where I have been happy with my ability to deal well with people may be.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A lot is in stake in the next 10-15 days...a prelim for a management game to be made, 2 online Quizzes to be prepared and publicity to be handled, preparations for the PPI which happens just before our college's fest. The next couple of weeks might as well decide a lot as to what is in store for me in the future. Right now just killing time and got reminded of a great quote which has enabled me to go my own way at things, beating several apprehensions:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Those who danced, seemed to be insane to those who could not hear the music"</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Cheers</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Nishit</div>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-73538851845450451352010-08-16T18:03:00.000-07:002010-08-16T18:09:17.304-07:00Figments of My Imaginationhello,<br /> <br />My midterms were on the verge and I had screwed up big time till then as far as my marks(Class Tests) were concerned....but nevertheless...discovered the poet in me that day.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Situation</span>: FIM class was going on....and everything was going overhead...and the commerce guys were nodding their heads as if the Prof was teaching 1+1=2. Not finding anything interesting to do...I suddenly realised that my adrenaline levels were down because of the usual poor sleep i had had the night(morning) before....so I took the generous decision of going to sleep even though I was stupid enough to sit in the 3rd row.....Invariably just like othr classes...the Prof caught me and asked me to go wash my face and come.<br />I did tht and came back....now I had the dreadful task of attending the lecture(40 more minutes were left)...with all my senses wide awake....Suddenly I started writing..........<br /> <br />(by the way FIM stands for Finacial Institutions and Markets for the less/more privileged who haven't had a shot at it)<br /> <br />Here it goes: It is titled "FIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION"<br /> <br />Among the banks, big and small,<br />I want to say shit and fuck them all.<br />The class has been dead and awefully boring,<br />At times we find the Prof. sulking.<br /> <br />Then come the mighty stock exchanges,<br />Selling Stocks and bonds like oranges.<br />But pardon me they have big brothers,<br />SEBI and RBI are like dung in the feathers.<br /> <br />He looks like a prince who holds his head high,<br />And God knows why does he look at the sky.<br />At times we fiddle and kick his ass,<br />No No, it isnt the Prof. but Arun of my class.<br /> <br />The term is over and the marks come out,<br />Ocassional scare covers me round about.<br />I flunk big time and fuck my grades,<br />My Poem sucks and so does everything else.<br /> <br />My dawn arrives as soon as I sleep,<br />Ending my freedom with the alarm's beep.<br />I rush to the class amidst humour and tension,<br />Wondering whether these are facts or figments of my imagination..........<br /><br />Adieu,<br />NishitCapt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-78887002647088903552010-07-05T16:58:00.000-07:002010-07-05T17:16:25.192-07:00I need serenity....Alright…I kno it has been like an epoch since I had last posted here.better late than never. Couldn’t resist the urge of posting today/night…I dnt know wat to call this time of the day…its like 5:14 am and still I refuse to call it day since sleep follows this post….Yeah…I have returned to campus..which is an absolute bliss sans the seniors who I had bonded like a family….the junis have taken their place but only on the records…thrs still a long way to go for it to happen….<br />Anyways…was off to Bombay/Bangalore/Hyderabad for my summers..did it @ LOreal…burnt sum calories..on the streets of Blore and Hyderabad…and finished the summers with a decent presentation @ Bombay….enjoyed a lot in the experience though….returned to campus a fortnight back…and the strings of nightouts and academic loads have already started taking a toll….<br />Its raining out here in bbsr….it gets really amazing in the monsoon…especially wen u r awake @ 5 in the morning and the clouds jst pour it on u….nature at its best…<br /><br />Sleep has ditched me for long now<br />To give me some more time to myself<br />But the more I give it to myself<br />The more cynical I become<br /><br />There are ups and downs<br /> and there are crests and troughs<br />Its becoming such a whirlpool<br />From which I shall never emerge<br />And if at all I do,<br />I ll hav to lose myself and become new<br /><br />Right now no more thoughts come to my mind….just getting used to becoming comfortably numb….numb with the void tht exists deep within and questions everytime I lay on my bed and look at the scary ceiling.<br /><br />Shall keep u updated regularly henceforth…okay I ll atleast try to.<br /><br />Cheers n AdieuCapt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-47886617113102360852010-01-03T12:53:00.000-08:002010-01-03T12:55:42.007-08:00The Cucumber Seller Of Chennai By Subroto Bagchi<h4><span style="font-weight: bold;">hello all,</span></h4>The following is an article about a real-life incident which happened with Subroto Bagchi.<br /><br />Read and feel blessed....<br /><br /> (November 1, 2004)<br /><br /> <em>"At peace with himself and with the world rushing past, this man was dressed in poverty. But in his presence, it was I who felt poor </em>"<br /><br />On a hot July day, my colleague Moses and I were trying to locate our car on Chennai’s Nungambakkam High Road in front of Nalli Silks when I saw a roadside cart laden with cucumbers. The seller was vacantly gazing at passersby. Clad in a white shirt and a dhoti worn in the traditional Chennai style, he had long hair and an unkempt beard. I did not know Tamil, and asked Moses to find out the price. One rupee apiece, came the reply.<br /><br />We wanted one piece each. The cucumber seller began deftly slicing them to put salt and the delectable red chilly powder on the neat halves. As we bit into the cucumber, I asked Moses to tell him that his pricing was too low, and that he should raise it. Moses conveyed this. The seller shook his head, and replied that “customer satisfaction” is more important than extra profit. The words ‘customer satisfaction’ were in English. I gulped my patronising comment. At this time, Moses excused himself to find our car. After a few moments, the seller asked me<em> in English</em> where I was from. From Bangalore, I replied. What follows here is our conversation. His statements are highlighted.<br /><br />Isn’t the Karnataka budget due to be presented tomorrow? Yes, that is true. Living in Karnataka, it was easy for me to concur on this.<br /><br />I wonder how the governments of Karnataka and Tamil Nadu will ever solve the water-sharing problem. Man cannot solve this problem. It has to be God. After all, it is an issue of how much rain is going to fall! I nodded. I was not sure if I had a view at all.<br /><br />See the way the monsoon is progressing. It does not look good. The progress of the rains is leaving a ‘V’ of a dry patch as the clouds move north. Bihar, Orissa, Madhya Pradesh and the states up north will have problems. Politicians are the ones who use such problems to create a divide among people. They always do it. They use water, religion, anything they can, to create a divide. Look at the way Amarinder Singh of Punjab is taking a stand. I looked at him, in part admiration and part disbelief.<br /><br />You’re from Bangalore. Things are going well for you folks. But I don’t understand how people with shady business interests can become representatives of public opinion there. It was part complaint and part observation.<br /><br />At this point, a fellow peddler arrived — helped himself to some of the cucumber, and the two had a quick conversation on some issue I did not understand. After the other person left, I asked him if selling cucumber was his full-time vocation. He told me that right now it was. Earlier, he sold lottery tickets, the trading of which has since been banned. As a result he had to switch his business to selling cucumbers on the wheeled cart. No complaints and no issues. Meaning to engage him further, I asked him his religion. This drew an instant look of disappointment from him: “Sir, I am an Indian. That is my religion. In my eyes, all people are equal, and it does not matter to me at all.”<br /><br />The clarity of his response and his conviction took me completely by surprise. His net worth was probably equal to his day’s turnover. The newspaper and magazines he reads, to keep abreast of things, wipe off the disposable income he generates. Bare feet on this busy, dusty road, he sold a low-value, perishable product from a rickety cart. At peace with himself and with the world rushing past, this man was dressed in poverty. But in his presence, it was I who felt poor.<br /><br />We are not complete if we are not connected. It is only when we are connected that things make sense. Only when things make sense, we can form an opinion. Standing there, I wondered how many in the corporate world know who the chief minister of Punjab is, and about the progress of the monsoon! How many have an informed view on river water politics and budget proceedings of another state.<br /><br />Soon, Moses appeared with our car. It was time for me to go. I shook hands with the nameless cucumber seller of Chennai. Actually, I wanted to touch his feet.Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-20374297377758483682009-12-24T13:00:00.000-08:002009-12-24T13:03:02.486-08:00Give me someone sunshine........hello,<div><br /></div><div>Now that the exams and with them my stint of sleepless nights is over.....its time to cool off a bit.....with 2 good movies(Avatar and 3 Idiots) in the offing.....I cnt wait to watch them.......</div><div><br /></div><div>Will come up with the reviews once I watch them....</div><div><br /></div><div>Till then.....Merry Christmas......</div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers</div><div>Yours Truly.</div>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-63620018881388844732009-12-18T11:14:00.000-08:002009-12-18T11:42:36.651-08:00Kasab Denies All ChargesWhat is common between Bobby Darling, Victoria Terminus (Mumbai) and the Indian Judiciary ??<br />Ans: All have undergone the famous Sex Change Operation in their lives.... the first one is quite famous and doesnt need a mention.....the second is termed as the greatest ever sex change operation in the history of Indian Railways...changing its name from 'Victoria' Terminus to 'Chatrapati Sivaji Terminus'.<br />What beats me completely is the fate of the third.....It has become a EUNUCH off late....yeahh that comes under sex change operation too....<br />For a bastard like Kasab has used the Indian Judiciary as his mistress and keeps fucking it every now and then defying all rationality and logic.<br />This is what Kasab today claimed before a special court that he was arrested on the night of November 25 and that he was falsely implicated in the 26/11 case. "On the night of November 25, I was roaming in Juhu. I had gone to see a movie when the local police arrested me," Kasab told the court. On being shown the footage of the CST massacre which clearly reveals his photo, he says he was a look alike of the real guy involved in the massacre which he claims the police has already killed.<br />(This is a notice to Mr. Ramgopal Verma, Mr. Sanjay Gupta, Mr Vishal Bharadwaj and others....please pay attention....there is an awesome plot being made here which can be put to use in a movie by you.....hope u are all ears...)<br />Kasab even accepted meeting David Coleman Headly while he was in Jail after the attacks.....now I ask...Why did nobody question then as to Why Headly was visiting Kasab...Headly could have been arrested then itself.....and why the fuck is someone allowed to meet a criminal like Kasab....nobody tried to question that out then......The consequence of a paralysed law-enforcement system clubbed with an even more broken-down and eunuch-like Judiciary has resulted to this day when a pimp like Kasab has the audacity to play with the court every now and then.....and what are we doing by giving him a fair trial......Had it been America or U.K or for that matter any other country in the world....they would have beaten the hell out of the bastard ...but We believe in giving a fair trial to a guy who comes shoots people around (167 of them to be exact) , is caught live on a CCTV, accepts the guilt....still we bloody wanna show that we are the most fair country in the world so we allow him to screw us once again by playing with our judiciary and at the same time our sentiments..<br />Somewhere i had read....its an ernest desire of Kasab to meet <strong>Mr.Amitabh Bachchan</strong> and some people were in the opinion that Mr.Bachchan should meet him....yeahh I agree Mr.Bachchan should meet him with a Gun in his hand and knock his ass out when they encounter each other....that would nominate Mr.Bachchan for another National Award...<br /><br />For the first and probably the only time in my life I would agree to someone called <strong>Mr.Bal Thackerey</strong> for expressing the opinion that Kasab should be hung right in front of Gateway Of India.....yes Mr.Thackerey, I second you....<br /><br />This sorry state of affairs reminds me of <strong>'A Wednesday'</strong> and I start wondering whether its possible to do it all over again.........Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-36309645237044683702009-12-14T14:23:00.000-08:002009-12-14T14:30:02.957-08:00So what the fuck is this life all about?????hello,<br />back to my usual times of interacting with u guys...i m not sure if anybody would even read this out....but i ve gotta write so i will write....my wish...i wanna write...i will write...(a tribute to a friend).....dunno...ppl tell me here that "Nishit, what the f**k has happened to u??.You werent like that"....i dnt kno watto do....have got an exam tomorrow....Its HRM or otherwise called Human Resource Management.....yeah yeahh i know prbbly there r chuckles out with a few abuses after sighting the word HR but watto do...there are ideological differences and there shall always be.....they want me to throw what i ve got to a bin and concentrate on my acads....i tell them either u fuck off or i suck.....i know its not evenly poised and it can never be.....for life is not a Zero-Sum game.....i lose that doesnt mean u win...isnt it????<br />Anyways...just got reminded of an age old adage and i twist it in my own way....<br />"When the going gets tough...change the scale of reference."<br />Haha ...hahaha....<br />There you go.....<br />Cheers n Gud Nyt<br />NishitCapt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-38201076842445406032009-12-13T16:14:00.000-08:002009-12-13T16:20:49.026-08:00LSD : Love Sex and Dhokhahi,<br /><br />yeah yeah....its not tht i ve got cheesy....thts the name of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Dibakar Banerjee's</span> (Khosla ka Ghosla and Oye Lucky Lucky Oye fame) new movie......amazing poster....jst cnt wait to watch this one....i ve read tht its a an ultra low budget (2 crore only) venture....BOLLYWOOD there you go.....this is our reply to the Tarantinos and Scorceses out there....for now jst chk out the poster and hold ur breaths.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNAr5cAMGbfuRMgyDXKXKR6HY2y-ayHIPBcNdVidY30GJfRmtegfh9E9xN1Nrz6GdFDMsoqJW3mFYlaGAFgUZl8lv7Dm2C3jfKccoDlCzArSC7YoOz9vhATN3p73_3GSJhwJ1BfgqS_86/s1600-h/lsd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 468px; height: 675px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNAr5cAMGbfuRMgyDXKXKR6HY2y-ayHIPBcNdVidY30GJfRmtegfh9E9xN1Nrz6GdFDMsoqJW3mFYlaGAFgUZl8lv7Dm2C3jfKccoDlCzArSC7YoOz9vhATN3p73_3GSJhwJ1BfgqS_86/s400/lsd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414879608021939458" border="0" /></a><br />Cheers<br />NishitCapt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-19441716189195366232009-12-13T15:51:00.000-08:002009-12-13T16:01:15.484-08:00Jaideep Sahni - The man behind 'Rocket Singh'<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hats off the the brave bollywood for trying out these experiments....the glimpses of which were seen in Sanjay Gupta's "<span style="font-weight: bold;">KAANTE</span>" and then greatly re-inforced by Anurag Kashyap's "<span style="font-weight: bold;">DEV D</span>" and still more by Vishal oops Vifhal Bharadwaj's "<span style="font-weight: bold;">KAMINEY</span>" and not to shy away though Shimit Amin's "<span style="font-weight: bold;">ROCKET SINGH: Salesman of the year</span>" stands in a different lane altogether what I want to highlight is that finally there are movies being churned out by bollywood which have finally started respecting the scrips....and realising the fact that if the scripts donot need itsy-bitsy-teeny weeny-yellow-polka dot-bikini kind of songs and no snow-clad mountains then they better chuck them off.....This post goes on to salute a hero called JAIDEEP SA</span>HNI and read on to know why....<br /><br />Source: http://moifightclub.wordpress.com/<br /><br />In an industry where every director wants the writing credit and every writer wants to turn director, they are a perfect pair. Shimit Amin and Jaideep Sahni. And they are confident about each other’s talent. When they picked up all the possible awards for Chak De India, the first name that Shimit would mention in his ‘thank you’ speech was Jaideep Sahni. Not Yashraj, Shah Rukh, Aditya Chopra or anyone else, like other suckers of bollywood would happily do. Because he knows that the lanky lad who still looks like a fresh graduate just out of an engineering college, knows some rocket science for sure. <p style="text-align: justify;">In our filmy friends circle, we all have one common cinema taste. We HATE Yashraj Films and their brand of cinema. And we have one common curiosity. Why is Jaideep Sahni still there ? Right man at the wrong place ? Now we know why.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">Slowly and steadily, the man is pushing for his kind of cinema. Otherwise who can ever imagine a film like Rocket Singh to come out of the same factory. No Manish Malhotra heroines, no song and dance routine (no music = big revenue loss), no glamour quotient, no foreign locales and almost no love story! So many unknown faces who look like you and me. Ok, punjabi factor is there but never before has a punjabi character looked so normal. No bhangra-shangra, balle-balle or hadippa! This cant be an easy task from the big bullies of bollywood who are known for their money minting <em>phillum</em> formula. This needs conviction, a very strong one.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">The duo proved it with Chak De India (CDI), the film which even Shah Rukh Khan wasnt confident about. Who would come to see him in scruffy beard, check shirts and without overcoat! Nobody came for Swades. And to top that, he is not even romancing anyone, but teaching hockey to some unknown group of girls and none of them were “hot and sexy” according to either YRF or bollywood’s dictionary. But then, its showbiz and as Goldman said, nobody knows anything! Shah Rukh Khan got the intial crowd but as we left the theatre we knew Bindiya Naik, Komal Chautala, Vidya Sharma, Aliya Bose, Preety Sabharwal and even Krishnaji! Jaideep’s pen made those unknown faces mightier than SRK! The numbers at the box office re-confirmed it.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">Like all other sports film, CDI was full of cliches but still it worked. To make cliches work is one of the most difficult things and with a sports like Hockey, which may be our national game but is least popular, it was more daunting task. For better answer, ask the makers of Goal. They had Football, Johnny-Bipasha baby and still messed up the most successful formula.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">But what was that “<em>sattar minute</em>” ? Too much <em>lecturebaazi</em>, I remember telling Jaideep after its release. Unlike others, he always has an ear for criticism. He said, “we have become too cynical, too corrupt. But in sports, its still the same. The ideals, the morals, the sportsmanship. You know, for us, when they play the national anthem in the theatre, we feel least interested but the sports guys they still get goosebumps. Its life and death for them. When they get into the field, they still feel like going to the battlefield.” I smiled and noded. His honesty and the way he said those words disarmed me. He said he didnt know this world. So, he went into hiding, stayed in the hostels of Sports Authority Of India (SAI), met people and put them on paper. They look and feel so real because they are from real life. Its lot of hardwork of last few years.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">You may hate the company he works for but you cant hate the man. Because he is among those rare few who is still like Rocket Singh. He doesnt fake it. Ask Anurag Kashyap, the man who is most vociferous about the YRF brand of cinema. Say Jaideep Sahni and he will nod his head. Because its all for good cinema. He also knows that Sahni knows some rocket science for sure.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">Khosla Ka Ghosla, Chakh De India and Rocket Singh – Salesman Of the Year, these three are Jaideep’s baby, from idea to script, casting to its release, he was involved with almost everything. He was commisioned to work on others like Jungle, Company, Bunty Aur Babli and Aaja Nachale. And Jaideep credits all to his good luck, ”From the beginning, I always got a chance to work with such directors who were willing to give me a free hand. More than I asked for. From recee to casting to design, I would get involved and nobody would feel insecure about it.” No, I dont remember reading any so called struggle of Jaideep Sahni ever. As a friend said it was too simple for Harpreet Singh. But then sometimes good things do happen to good people. Moral Education ? Thats paase! Do they still have it in school syllabus ?</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">2006. They were busy shooting the music video of Khosla Ka Ghosla, just before its release. The film was lying in the cans for long time. Met him on the shooting location and still remember his words “Its like my polio inflicted child. Needs more care. Others have big supporters, big selling points. They know how to run. Its easy for them to win but if this one even gets to run a little somehow, I will be very happy. Its different kind of happiness.” Who would have ever imagined that polio had such magic.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">2007. I was dying to watch Aaja Nachale because of Madhuri Dixit but didnt like it much. What was it ? Got too messy ? And you got bad reviews too. “Yaar, I agree with every review. I know what they are saying and why they are saying. You know, people say they have hidden agendas and all. I dont know them, they dont know me, what hidden agenda ? Everyone loves good cinema. All we can do is to keep trying for our best.” I was LOL. Still havent met anyone who is so receptive to criticism. Ask those with million dollar duds. They blame it all on the stars, the critics’ stars.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">So what went wrong ? “The story was already there. The main story. Madhuri’s comeback and all that. I could not do much there. I was told to set up the village/small town, the characters there and I did my best with that.” And talking of the town, I still remember the story of Vinay Pathak and Sushmita Mukherjee. The most beautiful track in the film. Its this world that Sahni knows best. The Khoslas and The Khurans. Middle class aims, aspirations, dreams, dilemmas, morals, ideals. And so in all three of his films (KKG, CDI, RS-SOTY), his characters move in similar domain.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">In KKG, the middle class Khosla family is forced to take the wrong turn to fix the wrong guy. Anupam Kher doesnt agree. Navin Nischol is shit scared. But the fun is on the run. Its a similar world in Rocket Singh. After Rocket sells the first computer by cheating the company, he comes back home and wants to order pizza. But when his Grandfather gets him to <em>matha-tek </em>Guru Nanak Dev, the pizza dream vanishes. Middle class morality may seem old-fashioned now but those who know it and have ever experienced it, know that its still there, somewhere in one corner. We just dont have any time for it. And if in doubt, ask your dad. Like my Grandma still keeps on reminding me “<em>sukh ke picche mat bhaag, shaanti zaroori hai, mann ki shanti</em>.” If only Grandma knew how good burgers and pizza taste and how expensive they are!</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">Jaideep started his career in bollywood after dabbling in computer engineering, advertising, image building, ad filmmaking and writing songs for some pop bands. Some great songs happend then. Remember Euphoria’s maaeri ? Or Shubha Mudgal’s pop number. A musician who knows him since his delhi days told me once, “they played smart and ditched him many times. If it was an album, they would put four songs of theirs and two of his. But see where is he now. He doesnt need them.” And “them” are also in bollywood. </p> <p style="text-align: justify;">No, not trying to give him demi-god status or make him holier-than-thou but thats the man I know. Thats what I have heard, read and experienced. The man is as good as his cinema, much like Raj Kumar Hirani. They are the two Rocket Singhs of the industry. Ask any sane man in the industry and I guess they will agree. Because its not difficult to spot the tinkle in the eyes of an honest artist.</p> <p style="text-align: justify;">And why does a story interests a writer ? From where does a writer gets his stories ? From his life, his world, unless you are born and bought up in the lanes of Lokhandwala where there is no life and there is no world. Cinema is your only reference. Otherwise no apple falls from a tree for any eureka moment. There is little Italy in Martin Scorsese’s cinema and spain in Pedro Almodovar’s work. Closer home, there is Meerut’s kill thrill in Bhardwaj’s cinema, politics in Sudhir Mishra’s cinematic genes and Delhi in Dibakar’s filmy DNA. Otherwise such honesty would never come on screen. What comes from inside is easy to spot. Rest all is derivative. </p> <p style="text-align: justify;">In this cynical world of cut-throat competition, its difficult to believe that Rocket Singh can exist and survive. Because character certificate is not cool anymore. But till the middle class believes in celebrating the values and ethics, lets celebrate Rocket Singh. Spiderman is impossible but Rocket Singh is not that difficult. Lets try.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Enough of bollywood for now.....till we see each other....have a nice time!!!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Cheers</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Yours Truly....<br /></p>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-67149126416867951972009-11-25T15:08:00.000-08:002009-11-25T15:25:48.549-08:00Life or something like it......An itchy movie(Kurbaan), a coffee break, an orgasmic lecture(fuck u whoever u were the HR guy), a hurriedly gulped Sweet Corn soup, a haphazardly arranged meeting and some aimless loitering is all what it took to return to my sweet abode....C-110 yeah a C-blocker Mind it.....Sometimes I myself wonder wat a life I ve got...or to be politically correct, wat a life I ve made of it.....sometimes overwhelming and sometimes suffocating.....well if this is wat it takes to become a manager...I shall do it and have no complaints......and now when i want to wind up the day (its 4:50 am)...after a couple of boosts of the divine spirit....i get reminded of life....ohh wat a phoney stuff i have made of myself...yeah now this reminds me of <strong>Catcher In The Rye..of Holden Caulfield </strong>to be precise..and I tune on to my music factory and there it plays....<br /><br />"<em>kya karoon haule haule jo mera dil ga raha hai,</em><br /><em> kya karoon dheemi dheemi si nashe mein jo hai zindagi,</em><br /><em> kya karoon dheere dheere main behka ja raha hoon,</em><br /><em> kya karoon thoda thoda toh asar hota hai mujhpe bhi."</em><br /><em></em><br />signing off for the day....promise to give u all a review of Kurbaan soon and a complete MBA type analysis of the 60 bucks I spent on it.....not in a mood to be critical now..........<br /><br />Adieu,<br />Yours Truly!!!!!Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-84103051829168518312009-11-24T03:11:00.000-08:002009-11-24T03:58:50.179-08:00Bal Thackerey , F**K Off<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The current happenings about the cheap publicity being garnered by dickless pimps oh sorry they have a name...Shiv Sainiks....accusing Sachin Tendulkar this time have left me completely disturbed.I just have one word for them and its <strong>FUCK-OFF,</strong>for they have certainly etched a blot this time in the hearts of billions in India and abroad.The pimps are just playing the monkey game...bloody politicising any and every thing that they can....and wat a race....sometimes Raj Thackerey says its Mumbai and not Bombay and a Karan Johar has to apologise for sumthing which is called his creative freedom.....and now the grand old daddy of the pimps...Mr.Bal Thackerey pokes his dirty tongue into everything.....seems the Thackereys were born for this stupid monkey game.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">My advise to Mr. Ball oops Bal Thackery is to better be in his burrow for the few scanty days of his life.....and I wonder sumtimes what a waste of an artistic life....dont know how many know that Bal Thackerey started his career being a cartoonist for newspapers along with the likes of R.K.Lashman....</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">till I get anothr short break off my hectic schdule and that Old Monk bottle in my hand and Speakers boasting of "Guncha Koi" by Mohit Chauhan... We will meet soon!!!!</span>Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5515124731417554387.post-63645789256797699482009-11-22T22:11:00.000-08:002009-11-22T22:40:06.177-08:00Fire in the Hole......."<span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>To err is human but to blame it on some one else shows true management potential</strong></span>".....<br /><br />To begin with...I am a frustrated soul bearing the brunt of the brutalities of B-School Life....but hey I enjoy it too..For my hobbies....no i wont call it a hobby....Quizzing is a way of life for me....I love beating around the bush (all pun intended) at times.....and before some nasty thoughts overcrowd u...lemme tell u I am as clean as one can be.....still all pun intended....<br />I am rolling out this blog to connect with fellow netizens who have got too busy in their own ways and also to vent out my feelings on issues, contemporaries as well as controversial.<br />The quote with which i started has been a startling reality since the time I ve joined MBA...and by saying so I do accept I have been actively participating in democratising the quote..<br />Well ....what to expect from this blog?????<br />Anything and Everything under the sun ....yeahh usually my posts would be precise...dealing with day to day issues and my take on them.....occasionally (provided my mood permits) I can write long about arbid things in life for eg. <strong>Last Few Days Of Che Guevera</strong>......yeahh he is God....<br />There would be Movie Reviews.....Restaurant Reviews too.....I must confess I am a foodie....and though here in Bhubaneswar (thats the place where I m currently stayin) there is a dearth of good places to eat....It doesnt bloddy matter to me much....I can binge onto almost everything that is Vegetarian....<br />Other than this my orientation would be Trivia based...blame that on my love for quizzing....I would also be sharing things that I find interesting......<br />This is more or less what the anatomy of this blog is going to be.......<br /><br />A small funda for today:<br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Do it the <strong><u>Anti-Kabir</u></strong> Way : For the unitiated, anti-Kabir is a philosophical position which goes against the much revered time management teachings of Kabir (Kal kare so aaj kar..blah blah). Anti-Kabir, as you might have guessed, is "<strong>Don't do today what you can do tomorrow and don't do tomorrow what you can do the day after</strong>".<br />This stands to be the revered top secret of successful managers......</span><br /><br /><br />Signing off for now as I am in my MIS class and the prof is as dead as a door-nail.......<br />for those who are wondering why I chose to go with the title of "Fire in the Hole".....I wd say tht this is the way I would want to fire my first salvo......cmmon no nasty thoughts this time Please...<br /><br />Yours Truly!!!!!!!Capt.Krunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07727822198945009913noreply@blogger.com7