A year ago, as of this date, I was in rainy Mumbai, living alone in our Mumbai apt.
13 mths ago, I was in deep distress. Every single day was stressful. I had a good job offer, which I had accepted. I had a half decent signing bonus coming my way. My labor petition for H1 had been approved. On paper, life was perfect. But the lack of a date with the US Consulate, came in the way of this perfection giving me happiness.
I couldn't get a date to have my visa done in India. All dates for 5-6 mths had been booked. Finally, as a good Indian, I figured out the process and got a date in the Kolkata consulate.
I was looking forward to going to India for a longish break before I started work but it was such a wrong time to be in India. In Mumbai, July basically spells disaster these days, what with the heavy rains and flooding. To top it, a day or two, before I was supposed to leave for India, some fucked up terrorists set off huge bombs in Mumbai's crowded suburban trains.
I usually brag about the psyche of the Mumbai citizenry. You pull off 5 blasts, people will still use the trains the next day. They suck it up, and move on.
I am rushing ahead of myself.
I had to go via Heathrow, and that was a disaster waiting to happen. First, British Airways sucks, as a higher end airline. The food is hideous and in extremely small portions so that someone like me, a light eater these days, came out of a meal hungry. The entertainment sucks...no 'on demand' movies...and the movies they showed were so boring I didn't know what to do with myself for the long haul trip.
Heathrow was the disaster it had promised to be. The long lines and security checks almost made me nauseous. The 8 hr transit didn't help any. All in all, the price I had to pay for going to India was in terms of mental stability and my sanity.
Landing in India wasn't really an overpowering experience. I had been there just 6 mths ago. I got out of the security area pretty quickly and got myself a cab. 400 bucks to go from the airport to Mahim. I'd call that fairly steep in the geographical context. Converted to dollars, it was pretty cheap.
Then the miracle happened. During broad daylight, I traveled from the airport to home...an experience that had taken me 2.5 hrs, only 6 mths back, in 25 mins flat. The cab stopped only at two points, the first signal taking the left turn from the Airport road onto the main road and then again while taking the left turn from an inside lane, close to the Mahim-Bandra flyover, to LJ Road.
This is the point I go back to the mention of Mumbai, the resilient city.
This time the city seemed scared. It hadn't taken this last punch very well. The roads were empty, people were staying away from trains and buses. Anniversary of July 26 was looming over the horizon and people were reeling under the left-right of the rains and terrorists.
Anyways, I came home soaked. No, there wasn't any rain. Just my sweat. Mumbai humidity does that to me.
Reached home and hauled my bags to the second floor.
Our building had been painted a fresh coat of some hideous color but I didn't mind it.
Reached home and I had Deepak (mama) to welcome me in before he left quickly to get his work done.
Adheet dropped by for a few mins to say hi. Good times catching up.
Then I did what I ritually do when I land in Mumbai. I cabbed it to Siddhivinayak, took darshan and decided to walk back. It's a pretty short haul back and the afternoon, though humid, wasn't a combination of hot and humid.
On my way back, I completed another ritual. I stopped by at SPG. The security guy had changed. And he didn't recognize me immediately. That was a blow to my ego.
But I knew in some short time, all the security guys at SPG will know me like they know the guy who hands them their paycheck.
The Doc of SPG isn't to be forgotten so easily.
Things seem to be headed in the right direction. Realized I hadn't checked my mail in a long time (36-48 hrs) and went over to the Reliance WebWorld across from Gypsy. My usual trick, these days, is to keep my account alive with 100 bucks on it, and to renew it with 100-250 buck increments when I land in Mumbai. This time, the lady at the counter said that I needed to pay 500 odd bucks for the renewal. That's a load of bull crap!
I was going to get myself a broadband connection. No reason I wanted to put 500 bucks here. 2 missions remained - one) to find myself a cable connection and two) to check mail at some place the same day.
Adheet invited me over for dinner and promised to let me use his laptop to check my mail. Coming from a kokya, I was nearly moved to tears. Ya right!
So I hauled a few beers over like a good American guest, while Adheet and the missus set forth a table full of goodies and teased me for my reduced appetite. But he repaid in kind by helping me select a decent DSL line...good ol MTNL. I was surprised to hear how good it was but then I have seen AG throw a tantrum or two when the net connection speed goes down and interferes with his 'net experience'. So, if it was good enough for him, I was cool with it.
Next day I went to MTNL, to get my modem and connection, money at the ready.
Typical MTNL problem...we can give you connection but it needs a special modem that we lease to you, and that is out of circulation. So we havent had one for quite some time and may not get some more for as much as a month.
Upside was: if I got my own modem, I'd get the connection the very next day.
Here I was the guy from America, with dollars converting to rupees. Ran to Yogesh and Shirish's place, a stone's throw from MTNL office. These guys have got to be the most honest and awesome computer guys I have ever met. They are more personal friends now. One more + to AG's tab. He introed me to these guys many moons back.
Shirish explained that the modem prices had been shooting up in the gray market for the same reason. If you get your hands on one, you get a connection asap.
I wrote him a check without a second thought, and to his word, he had a new modem available for me the next day.
I seem to have the easiest time with bureaucracy in India, these days.
I got in touch with the guy who would configure the connection for me. He promised to come the next day, and set it up for me.
Three days after landing in Mumbai, I had a DSL connection going for me. A record of sorts, I am told.
Connected to the net, 24/7, I was a new man.
Later, the Mumbai humidity was to mess up the keyboard on my laptop so I ended up taking the face caps off the keys to see if I could blow dry the connection and get it going.
Finally, I gave up and bought a crappy 400 buck USB keyboard, which is attached to my computer to this day.
My aging laptop has the monitor of a more youthful computer but is making sounds in weird places, showing its age.
Coming out of the deprived life of a PIGS (Poor Indian Graduate Student - in the US) I set myself a healthy 1000 rupee per day budget - food, travel, gifts, things to buy, household, etc.
I really cut loose on my wallet to the point that Vikrant (henceforth referred to as Vik), who thought me the stingiest bastard in the land, had his eyes bulging and mouth agape when he saw me carry, and spew, 100/500 buck notes.
Though I need add, I never wasted money. If I saw a bus going to SP, I caught a bus a zillion times. I didn't have to always cab it because I had money.
One of the happiest experiences (or bunch thereof) on the trip was the many, many, many long lunches I had with Vik or the hundred times he came over to my place 'for 10 mins' and ended up staying for a solid couple of hrs.
I had landed a good job after a tough 3-4 confidence sapping years. Vik was in full struggle mode. He was handling marriage and increased responsibility the way only Vik can - with complete joy.
Had terrific long conversations with Vik - we talked life, we talked food, we talked money, we talked ambition. Being with Vik transported me to another era, where we did super spontaneous simple things.
Like the time he made me walk in light rain, all the way to Aaswad, for a plate of kande pohe. I begged him to drive or suggested I'd pay for a cab and typically Vik came back that he'd pay me the cab fare equivalent to walk. Obstinate bastard. Usually the pohe would be all gone by the time we reached Aaswad. And then I/we'd nearly collapse laughing.
Vik, with a bruised ego, and an unsatiated appetite for pohe, would force me around from Gypsy corner to N different places in the quest of pohe.
I traveled to Pune some, went to Kolkata for all of one day, met up with cousins and friends.
I intend to make this a series for the next few days...so these memories solidify into words.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
"Americas Best Hospitals" 2007 Report
U.S. News ranking for Hospitals is serious bragging rights...and no little wonder. The entire organization works damn hard at maintaining it.
You see how serious all this is when you walk through the underground tunnel that connects the J Hop OPD area with the J Hop Hospital. The entire long, brightly lit tunnel is adorned with huge blow outs of the Cover pages from U.S. News declaring Hopkins as 'The Best" for the Nth time.
You see how serious all this is when you walk through the underground tunnel that connects the J Hop OPD area with the J Hop Hospital. The entire long, brightly lit tunnel is adorned with huge blow outs of the Cover pages from U.S. News declaring Hopkins as 'The Best" for the Nth time.
For the 17th consecutive year, The Johns Hopkins Hospital has topped U.S.News & World Report's annual rankings of "America's Best Hospitals." For a complete list and methodology of rankings, please visit www.usnews.com.
In addition to heading the Honor Roll, The Johns Hopkins Hospital ranked in the top 10 in 15 of the 16 specialty categories listed. Here are the rankings:
 |
| #1 | |
| #1 | |
| #1 | |
| #1 | |
| #2 | Geriatrics |
| #2 | Neurology/Neurosurgery |
| #2 | Ophthalmology (Wilmer Eye Institute) |
| #2 | |
| #3 | Cancer |
| #3 | Digestive Disorders |
| #3 | Endocrinology |
| #3 | |
| #4 | Heart/Heart Surgery |
| #5 | Orthopedics |
| #6 | Kidney Disease |
| #21 | Rehabilitation |
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Busy life
Life is aspeeding. Sometimes weeks fly by without me realizing the swift passage of time. Sunday nights are stressful and before I know it, it is Friday evening.
Days are merging into weeks,and weeks into months...
The last two weeks have been crazy as far as working up to, or beyond, 3 am on 4 separate occasions is involved. Acquisition diligence is painstaking, detailed work and takes its time.
A time for me of details, and for others of models.
It's over now. Or nearly over.
Mon Tues will mark some finals and thence onto a different search...a different case.
Days are merging into weeks,and weeks into months...
The last two weeks have been crazy as far as working up to, or beyond, 3 am on 4 separate occasions is involved. Acquisition diligence is painstaking, detailed work and takes its time.
A time for me of details, and for others of models.
It's over now. Or nearly over.
Mon Tues will mark some finals and thence onto a different search...a different case.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
BOWLED OUT - Shattered cricket dreams
For those that know me know that I love cricket with an abiding, haunting, decerebrate kind of love.
There is no logic to it. I just love it. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why I love cricket so much. Why does a bowler running up to the bowling crease see my pulse racing rather than, say, a fast car on the F1 circuit or basketall? Don't know.
Here's one cricket feeling another cricketer's heartache.
Cricketers who fail to make it to the top are often driven to desperation, writes
Early this week, Subhash Dixit jumped to his death. A few years ago this Kanpur lad was captain of India’s Under-15 cricket team. Later, he became captain of UP’s Under-19 team. But when he died, he was jobless, penniless and hopeless. He couldn’t even make it to UP’s Ranji team. He gave up his dreams and tried to get a job, but he failed. It was all over for him. While his family and friends believe that Dixit was a good player who never got a chance at the top level, managers of UPCA say his game was deteriorating.
In this cricket-crazy country, with hundreds of thousands of men dreaming of donning the national colours one day, Dixit’s tragic demise is not a good sign. After all, there is space only for 11 men in the national team. So, what happens to thousands of men whose career fails to progress beyond a point. The coaches and managers know this problem. They know what happens when a young dream dies. Naresh Churi, who is currently coaching Ruparel College, Shardashram Vidyamandir and Deeplo Sports Club at Shivaji Park, believes that a coach must convince his players that despite politics there is always a place for genuine talent.
But that doesn’t always happen. Rajesh Sanil, who coaches at MIG cricket ground in Bandra, says cricketers must learn how to fight the system. Sanil claims that the selection of a player depends on a lot of things apart from talent. Probed a little deeper, Sanil admits that if two players of the same calibre are vying for a place in the team, then the one with he right connections invariably wins. He feels that the system of selecting players is not likely to change anytime soon nor is there any short-term solution to the problem.
It’s a serious problem. The young cricketers are in a hurry these days. They want everything to happen quickly. This often leads to disappointment amongst players who do not have the mental aptitude and required resilience to slog it out for just that little time longer. The commercial aspect of the game also drives many non-players into trying their luck all the time. Players with too much passion risk hurting themselves while staring at disappointment. They often feel betrayed by the game they loved. Unless such a person gets comfort from his parents and coach, cases like Subhash Dixit’s may happen again.
The lack of parameters for selecting a player makes the selector’s decision sacred. Milind Rege, chairman of the Cricket Club of India’s organising committee, says that selection of a player from one level to the other is a subjective choice which varies from selector to selector. Former national chief selector Kiran More says he looks at the physical fitness and mental preparation of a player while assessing him.
But, the players who have been ill-treated by the management blame the selection process for ruining the game and their careers. Nishant Bhatia is one of the many strugglers who is striving to make a mark in the game. He started playing at the age of 12 with Shardashram Vidyamandir, the school which has given the country Sachin Tendulkar. A decade later, Nishant is nowhere close to emulating his idol. Not because he is a bad player, but because he still hasn’t caught any selector’s eye. He has played the Harris Shield, ELF Vengsarkar, Kanga League, Shatkar Trophy, Shalini Bhalekar Trophy and various MCA camp matches where he was also the captain of his team. “The biggest disappointment came when I got a call from the MCA saying I was selected, but I never got to play and was eventually shunted out,” Nishant says. The appointment had come after he had been the third highest scorer in the West Zone knockout league tournament. His frustration is growing with each passing year. In this glorious game of uncertainties, “either you get famous or you’re a stupid person,” Nishant says. Even your own friends begin laughing at you and question your abilities, he adds.
Bhatia’s colleague Paresh Nailwal has almost given up hope of returning to the game. Working in his father’s shop now, Nailwal is planning to do an MBA. He says that sinister things keep happening in the game with or without the player’s knowledge, so it is difficult to gauge what makes the cut for a particular selector. Nailwal claims that a couple of years ago, when the team for Mumbai was selected, almost eight players were subsequently dropped without any reason from the total list of 14 players and till date, no one knows why such a thing happened.
Incidents like this make young players lose faith in the system and themselves. Ratnakar Shetty, BCCI’s CAO, says, “Of 100 outstanding boys who turn up every year, there is space to only for eight to 10 players. The important thing is to get noticed at all levels to be one of them.” Many players all but stumble at this point. Some day soon, the hopes of an entire nation will end in a billion heartaches. TNN
Earning on each level
Under 19 and Under 22 — Between Rs 4,500 to Rs 5,000 per match Shield Matches — On an eightmonth contract, a player gets about Rs 5,000 per month Club Cricket — No money but you get a share if your team wins Ranji Trophy — Around Rs 50,000 per match One Day Internationals — Rs 2 lakh per match Test Match — Rs 2.5 lakh per match
There is no logic to it. I just love it. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why I love cricket so much. Why does a bowler running up to the bowling crease see my pulse racing rather than, say, a fast car on the F1 circuit or basketall? Don't know.
Here's one cricket feeling another cricketer's heartache.
End of a young innings
Cricketers who fail to make it to the top are often driven to desperation, writes
Priyanko Sarkar
Early this week, Subhash Dixit jumped to his death. A few years ago this Kanpur lad was captain of India’s Under-15 cricket team. Later, he became captain of UP’s Under-19 team. But when he died, he was jobless, penniless and hopeless. He couldn’t even make it to UP’s Ranji team. He gave up his dreams and tried to get a job, but he failed. It was all over for him. While his family and friends believe that Dixit was a good player who never got a chance at the top level, managers of UPCA say his game was deteriorating.
In this cricket-crazy country, with hundreds of thousands of men dreaming of donning the national colours one day, Dixit’s tragic demise is not a good sign. After all, there is space only for 11 men in the national team. So, what happens to thousands of men whose career fails to progress beyond a point. The coaches and managers know this problem. They know what happens when a young dream dies. Naresh Churi, who is currently coaching Ruparel College, Shardashram Vidyamandir and Deeplo Sports Club at Shivaji Park, believes that a coach must convince his players that despite politics there is always a place for genuine talent.
But that doesn’t always happen. Rajesh Sanil, who coaches at MIG cricket ground in Bandra, says cricketers must learn how to fight the system. Sanil claims that the selection of a player depends on a lot of things apart from talent. Probed a little deeper, Sanil admits that if two players of the same calibre are vying for a place in the team, then the one with he right connections invariably wins. He feels that the system of selecting players is not likely to change anytime soon nor is there any short-term solution to the problem.
It’s a serious problem. The young cricketers are in a hurry these days. They want everything to happen quickly. This often leads to disappointment amongst players who do not have the mental aptitude and required resilience to slog it out for just that little time longer. The commercial aspect of the game also drives many non-players into trying their luck all the time. Players with too much passion risk hurting themselves while staring at disappointment. They often feel betrayed by the game they loved. Unless such a person gets comfort from his parents and coach, cases like Subhash Dixit’s may happen again.
The lack of parameters for selecting a player makes the selector’s decision sacred. Milind Rege, chairman of the Cricket Club of India’s organising committee, says that selection of a player from one level to the other is a subjective choice which varies from selector to selector. Former national chief selector Kiran More says he looks at the physical fitness and mental preparation of a player while assessing him.
But, the players who have been ill-treated by the management blame the selection process for ruining the game and their careers. Nishant Bhatia is one of the many strugglers who is striving to make a mark in the game. He started playing at the age of 12 with Shardashram Vidyamandir, the school which has given the country Sachin Tendulkar. A decade later, Nishant is nowhere close to emulating his idol. Not because he is a bad player, but because he still hasn’t caught any selector’s eye. He has played the Harris Shield, ELF Vengsarkar, Kanga League, Shatkar Trophy, Shalini Bhalekar Trophy and various MCA camp matches where he was also the captain of his team. “The biggest disappointment came when I got a call from the MCA saying I was selected, but I never got to play and was eventually shunted out,” Nishant says. The appointment had come after he had been the third highest scorer in the West Zone knockout league tournament. His frustration is growing with each passing year. In this glorious game of uncertainties, “either you get famous or you’re a stupid person,” Nishant says. Even your own friends begin laughing at you and question your abilities, he adds.
Bhatia’s colleague Paresh Nailwal has almost given up hope of returning to the game. Working in his father’s shop now, Nailwal is planning to do an MBA. He says that sinister things keep happening in the game with or without the player’s knowledge, so it is difficult to gauge what makes the cut for a particular selector. Nailwal claims that a couple of years ago, when the team for Mumbai was selected, almost eight players were subsequently dropped without any reason from the total list of 14 players and till date, no one knows why such a thing happened.
Incidents like this make young players lose faith in the system and themselves. Ratnakar Shetty, BCCI’s CAO, says, “Of 100 outstanding boys who turn up every year, there is space to only for eight to 10 players. The important thing is to get noticed at all levels to be one of them.” Many players all but stumble at this point. Some day soon, the hopes of an entire nation will end in a billion heartaches. TNN
Earning on each level
Under 19 and Under 22 — Between Rs 4,500 to Rs 5,000 per match Shield Matches — On an eightmonth contract, a player gets about Rs 5,000 per month Club Cricket — No money but you get a share if your team wins Ranji Trophy — Around Rs 50,000 per match One Day Internationals — Rs 2 lakh per match Test Match — Rs 2.5 lakh per match
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Blogging from Mountainview Caltrain station
Free internet...Google Wifi.
At the Caltrain station. Can you believe that? I couldnt.
Blew my mind out!
Google rocks!
At the Caltrain station. Can you believe that? I couldnt.
Blew my mind out!
Google rocks!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
The Calm after the storm
The last week was a storm. One of the busiest and most stressful weeks in my life!
Possibly, some weeks must have been as exhausting and as stressful. Maybe I am putting more emphasis on this week because it was more 'corporate stressful'.
But I was exhausted at the end of it all. I realized 3 hrs of sleep per night doesn't work for me.
Yesterday I went to the KGI 10th anniversary. I guess I had expected more. To talk more in depth with some friends...to talk more in depth with some favorite faculty members, to interact with some of the Board of Trustees and even though I felt it was shallow, I did what is supposed to be correct in networking... I worked the room well. Moving from one friend to another, making contact, updating and moving on. Is that how networking works? Sigh!
At my dinner table, one of my juniors was sitting with his parents. We were joined by two members of the BoT and three other people. His father asked each of us to give ONE valuable piece of advice to the new graduate. I said that as a consultant I mostly did things in threes. For me the THREE best pieces of advice are:
1) Never trade long term value for short term dollar
2) The dots dont always connect when you are doing something. But do it anyways. The more you say "I'm never going to need to do this", fate tries to make you look like a fool. The dots connect later. Have faith in this universal principal and just do it.
3) Don't do something because the boom is around the corner. When the bust comes about, you're going to hate your work. Do what you genuinely like. Come boom or bust you'd at least enjoy what you do.
Spent a few miserable hrs. at the Press. There was no seating available, music was too loud and I was miserable. I hate pubs, clubs and bars.
Tomorrow promises to start an interesting week.
Possibly, some weeks must have been as exhausting and as stressful. Maybe I am putting more emphasis on this week because it was more 'corporate stressful'.
But I was exhausted at the end of it all. I realized 3 hrs of sleep per night doesn't work for me.
Yesterday I went to the KGI 10th anniversary. I guess I had expected more. To talk more in depth with some friends...to talk more in depth with some favorite faculty members, to interact with some of the Board of Trustees and even though I felt it was shallow, I did what is supposed to be correct in networking... I worked the room well. Moving from one friend to another, making contact, updating and moving on. Is that how networking works? Sigh!
At my dinner table, one of my juniors was sitting with his parents. We were joined by two members of the BoT and three other people. His father asked each of us to give ONE valuable piece of advice to the new graduate. I said that as a consultant I mostly did things in threes. For me the THREE best pieces of advice are:
1) Never trade long term value for short term dollar
2) The dots dont always connect when you are doing something. But do it anyways. The more you say "I'm never going to need to do this", fate tries to make you look like a fool. The dots connect later. Have faith in this universal principal and just do it.
3) Don't do something because the boom is around the corner. When the bust comes about, you're going to hate your work. Do what you genuinely like. Come boom or bust you'd at least enjoy what you do.
Spent a few miserable hrs. at the Press. There was no seating available, music was too loud and I was miserable. I hate pubs, clubs and bars.
Tomorrow promises to start an interesting week.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Dizzying speed of life
Takeaway for this post:
Time flies!
As simple as that. On May 15th I'd like to do a quick dekko at the year as it was. But the essence is that time flies.
I have realized that if your work day spans from 9 am to 10 pm, your life is going to speed by in a burst of light and fury, signifying nothing.
But having said that, I have learnt a huge lot on the job. I also learnt that if you can't talk from experience to relationships, restaurants and fun spots, you are going to be pretty much lost in a casual discussion with work peers.
I realized this more recently when we had a party in a fancy lil place with expensive drinks and hot waitresses in small black numbers, and I preferred to stay back in office and finish work.
Some would call it sad, but I just cannot identify with discussion that centers a fair bit around basketball, football, spouses and LA hotspots. I have no interest in any of these things, neither am I able to feign such interest. Sad. Cuz the bunch of guys in my office are really nice folks.
Time flies!
As simple as that. On May 15th I'd like to do a quick dekko at the year as it was. But the essence is that time flies.
I have realized that if your work day spans from 9 am to 10 pm, your life is going to speed by in a burst of light and fury, signifying nothing.
But having said that, I have learnt a huge lot on the job. I also learnt that if you can't talk from experience to relationships, restaurants and fun spots, you are going to be pretty much lost in a casual discussion with work peers.
I realized this more recently when we had a party in a fancy lil place with expensive drinks and hot waitresses in small black numbers, and I preferred to stay back in office and finish work.
Some would call it sad, but I just cannot identify with discussion that centers a fair bit around basketball, football, spouses and LA hotspots. I have no interest in any of these things, neither am I able to feign such interest. Sad. Cuz the bunch of guys in my office are really nice folks.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Of Fobs
I'm a FoB. I will always be a FoB. I mean, one can either be an ABCD or a FoB and I cant be an ABCD, so FoB I shall be.
And Fobs get other fobs, are able to associate with other fobs. They also enjoy Fob stories.
I watched 'Namesake' in the FOX theater tonight. One of those "by invitation only" shows for employees and their F/F. It was a nice movie. It was neither shallow nor too indulgent, neither artsy nor too Bollywood. It is done just right. Good acting all around. Kal Penn has come a long way from 'National Lampoon' and ' Harold and Kumar'.
The big surprise is with Irfan Khan and Tabu. Their acting prowess was never really in question but the ease with which their skills transcend the language barrier is fascinating. Both the actors fit in seamlessly in an English movie setting.
The movie is the juxtaposition of an ABCD and a couple of uber-Fobs. And uber-Fobs of the previous generation were one helluva piece of work. Tabu excels as she did in Chandni Bar. The movie is beautiful because it creates neither heroes nor villians. It only shows us flawed humans and the best stories in the known Universe are made up of flawed humans.
All in all, a good fun experience.
And Fobs get other fobs, are able to associate with other fobs. They also enjoy Fob stories.
I watched 'Namesake' in the FOX theater tonight. One of those "by invitation only" shows for employees and their F/F. It was a nice movie. It was neither shallow nor too indulgent, neither artsy nor too Bollywood. It is done just right. Good acting all around. Kal Penn has come a long way from 'National Lampoon' and ' Harold and Kumar'.
The big surprise is with Irfan Khan and Tabu. Their acting prowess was never really in question but the ease with which their skills transcend the language barrier is fascinating. Both the actors fit in seamlessly in an English movie setting.
The movie is the juxtaposition of an ABCD and a couple of uber-Fobs. And uber-Fobs of the previous generation were one helluva piece of work. Tabu excels as she did in Chandni Bar. The movie is beautiful because it creates neither heroes nor villians. It only shows us flawed humans and the best stories in the known Universe are made up of flawed humans.
All in all, a good fun experience.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
A strange week in Boston
This was one of the strangest weeks in a long time...by a stretch.
I was in Boston from Sun night through Thur and I stayed at THREE hotels in four nights.
Reached Boston around 10:30. Was supposed to be at the Langham for the 4 days. Disaster struck in the first hour and half in Boston.
The hotel refused to give me the rate I had received while booking on AmEx website. I was pissed as hell but not much you can do when faced with adamant luxury hotel reception. I have a niggling doubt, luxury hotel staff is more snobbish, boorish and harder to bear than some of the patrons in the hotel.
Ended up working until 3 am or so, signed out of the hotel the next morning on Mon 12th and reach work kinda late by 9:30. Worked my ass off the whole day, and then booked into a hotel for a day...in the Bulfinch. Very low key hotel though after the snobbery of Langham and the bad experience there, the relaxed attitude of the hot East European girl at the counter in jeans and casual clothes was actually refreshing. Again worked till 1ish AM from the hotel, woke up around 7:30 am and worked from the hotel till around 10ish when I walked in to the office after checking out...again. The Bulfinch only had the room for the day.
At the end of another long day on Tuesday, I gathered my bags from the Bulfinch and signed in, this time, in one of my comfort hotel...the Millennium Bostonian. Given that I had lived there just 2 mths back and that the firm has a deal with them, I got a pretty nice suite. Not that it made a difference, since the next/last two days were even more crazy and I never came in before 11 pm.
Finally flew back to LA on Thur, with the storm clouds gathering in.
Friday I heard the Boston office was closed at 3 in the afternoon while I was in 55F LA in advance of St. Paddy's day.
Boston gave me a cheery, warm welcome, some hotel experiences sucked, worked my ass off before leaving to a teary farewell.
Got experience dealing with multiple non US markets. Interesting how conditions vary dramatically in various geographies.
I was in Boston from Sun night through Thur and I stayed at THREE hotels in four nights.
Reached Boston around 10:30. Was supposed to be at the Langham for the 4 days. Disaster struck in the first hour and half in Boston.
The hotel refused to give me the rate I had received while booking on AmEx website. I was pissed as hell but not much you can do when faced with adamant luxury hotel reception. I have a niggling doubt, luxury hotel staff is more snobbish, boorish and harder to bear than some of the patrons in the hotel.
Ended up working until 3 am or so, signed out of the hotel the next morning on Mon 12th and reach work kinda late by 9:30. Worked my ass off the whole day, and then booked into a hotel for a day...in the Bulfinch. Very low key hotel though after the snobbery of Langham and the bad experience there, the relaxed attitude of the hot East European girl at the counter in jeans and casual clothes was actually refreshing. Again worked till 1ish AM from the hotel, woke up around 7:30 am and worked from the hotel till around 10ish when I walked in to the office after checking out...again. The Bulfinch only had the room for the day.
At the end of another long day on Tuesday, I gathered my bags from the Bulfinch and signed in, this time, in one of my comfort hotel...the Millennium Bostonian. Given that I had lived there just 2 mths back and that the firm has a deal with them, I got a pretty nice suite. Not that it made a difference, since the next/last two days were even more crazy and I never came in before 11 pm.
Finally flew back to LA on Thur, with the storm clouds gathering in.
Friday I heard the Boston office was closed at 3 in the afternoon while I was in 55F LA in advance of St. Paddy's day.
Boston gave me a cheery, warm welcome, some hotel experiences sucked, worked my ass off before leaving to a teary farewell.
Got experience dealing with multiple non US markets. Interesting how conditions vary dramatically in various geographies.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Flush with money
Step- one of the guys in my office...a Harvard MBA to boot...thinks I'm one of the geekiest guys he knows because I spend a fair bit of my weekend reading the Economist.
I have to confess that is true. I am a geek. I read the Economist for pleasure.
Now, feeling light headed from my confession here is a reply to a debate regarding the future of the IMF that was pretty interesting though the poster seems to have digressed a fair bit.
Here goes:
Interesting...remind me when I become a VC to be VERY cautious investing Fund money in China.
I have to confess that is true. I am a geek. I read the Economist for pleasure.
Now, feeling light headed from my confession here is a reply to a debate regarding the future of the IMF that was pretty interesting though the poster seems to have digressed a fair bit.
Here goes:
Money is a token that represents scarce resources. But if money is not scarce, it has no value. Could it be that the wonderful new concepts of economics based on gee-whiz faith of the last twenty years, such as the idea that unlimited money supply is the same as unlimited wealth, be catching up with the global economy? I think it has.
What has emerged is a world system with two tiers of money supply. The money supply that exists in the investor tier is unlimited and growing faster than that, as greedy and stupid economists encourage greedy and stupid bankers to break every prudent restraint. The money supply that exists in the consumer or exchange economy is still limited. Thus we have the situation where you can't even give away investment capital at this point. So the IMF is going out of business, since it was peddling money in the investment tier, and there isn't a customer left who can absorb any more investment capital. At this point the most ridiculous and impossible investments are flush with captial, things that have little or no chance of value return, things like Google stock, or YouTube the non-business with the no-business-model. Horrible investments like Chinese banks and businesses are overfed with excessive capital. Now in Chinese culture money is never, ever, ever, returned to investors and it is the basic practice of every business or individual to keep two or three or four sets of books and for capital to disappear in 100 ways like rain through a sieve. The reason for orientals doing business exclusively with relatives is that only relatives can be made to return investments or fairly pay, and that only with much pressure. Yet there are trillions of dollars available to be flushed into that drain without any reasonable hope of return, because investment capital is now available without limit or restraint.
The IMF is being put out of business, because their product, investment capital, has been cheapened.
Posted by sharncedar at February 3, 2007 6:27 PM
Interesting...remind me when I become a VC to be VERY cautious investing Fund money in China.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Our daily bread
Some things...the weirdest of things...trigger a memory. A random memory.
Like...some dough had gone bad (this is possibly a year back) and guess what memory it triggered? The first or second day of school, back in high school days when the school folks assembled a room full of 100-pg and 200-pg notebooks to be given to students. The smell of the dough going bad was exactly like the smell of the glue used to stick the jute/cloth binder that held the books together. One notebook caused you to wince, a sack full caused you to feel nauseous. A room full of such books caused you to get high and have distinctly horrifying hallucinations. Especially with the Mumbai rain out in full force and the smell of damp clothes and wet socks adding to the attack on the olfactory senses.
Obviously, the school got the notebooks for less in bulk and also avoided the premium, luxury notebooks for rich kids v/s blotting paper notebooks for the poor ones.
So everyone got the blotting paper kind.
Yesterday, I was reading my latest book "Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid" and there was a reference to a Mexican bread company...Bimbo!
Now any desi kid who grew up in India, especially in Mumbai remembers a few specific bread companies that operated back in the day of socialist raj- Wibs, Britannia and....Bimbo.
Each bread had a unique smell...mainly because of the yeast used to make it.
If you could afford it, you went for Britannia. Short on money? Buy Wibs and the days Britannia and Wibs was out, you bought Bimbo.
Still remember the white, blue and orange alternating squared wax paper cover.
We tried to find the loaf that seemed tightly packed. Basically it meant that roaches or lizards could not have made their way into the loaf. There were no coated wire ties or transparent plastic bags with plastic holds in those days.
I used to wait for those Sunday mornings when my grand ma would send me to fetch the premium bread while she cut slices of tomatoes, cucumber and made mint chutney and made awesome sandwiches. If I was lucky my grandma would let me have two sandwiches and half of a third one.
I remember making coffee icecream...basically I 'forgot' my strong milk coffee in the freezer overnight and then I'd wait for the 10 am cartoon show to start. In those days of DD1 and DD2 we didnt have the luxury of having fun shows right through the day. You got to see one...maybe two...interesting shows on a Sunday. I'd make sure that I spaced my sandwiches (or Maggie) right so that the last bite would be a min or two before that fun hr ended.
It was optimization of a simple joy.
In Malegaon, the small town where my folks live, premium bread was very hard to come by, back in the day. So the bread we got was made at the local bakery...simply called "Apni Bakery". It had the best naankatai, khaari biscuits and loose 'Nice' biscuits which he sold by weight. It was fascinating for a young city boy.
The bread wasn't always very tasty and the slices were really small. Possibly 2.5 inch square. Tiny. But the intriguing part was that it didnt come from some faceless corporation. It was made by the guy I spoke to at the counter.
The days have changed and my brain and senses are overwhelmed by a flood of bread choices- white, whole wheat, 5 grain, 7 grain, sourdough, baguettes, foccacia, and what not. But none has an association. Usually, I buy the same brand of bread but I'd be damned if I remember the name.
A simple thing...a simple trigger. A sweet memory.
Like...some dough had gone bad (this is possibly a year back) and guess what memory it triggered? The first or second day of school, back in high school days when the school folks assembled a room full of 100-pg and 200-pg notebooks to be given to students. The smell of the dough going bad was exactly like the smell of the glue used to stick the jute/cloth binder that held the books together. One notebook caused you to wince, a sack full caused you to feel nauseous. A room full of such books caused you to get high and have distinctly horrifying hallucinations. Especially with the Mumbai rain out in full force and the smell of damp clothes and wet socks adding to the attack on the olfactory senses.
Obviously, the school got the notebooks for less in bulk and also avoided the premium, luxury notebooks for rich kids v/s blotting paper notebooks for the poor ones.
So everyone got the blotting paper kind.
Yesterday, I was reading my latest book "Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid" and there was a reference to a Mexican bread company...Bimbo!
Now any desi kid who grew up in India, especially in Mumbai remembers a few specific bread companies that operated back in the day of socialist raj- Wibs, Britannia and....Bimbo.
Each bread had a unique smell...mainly because of the yeast used to make it.
If you could afford it, you went for Britannia. Short on money? Buy Wibs and the days Britannia and Wibs was out, you bought Bimbo.
Still remember the white, blue and orange alternating squared wax paper cover.
We tried to find the loaf that seemed tightly packed. Basically it meant that roaches or lizards could not have made their way into the loaf. There were no coated wire ties or transparent plastic bags with plastic holds in those days.
I used to wait for those Sunday mornings when my grand ma would send me to fetch the premium bread while she cut slices of tomatoes, cucumber and made mint chutney and made awesome sandwiches. If I was lucky my grandma would let me have two sandwiches and half of a third one.
I remember making coffee icecream...basically I 'forgot' my strong milk coffee in the freezer overnight and then I'd wait for the 10 am cartoon show to start. In those days of DD1 and DD2 we didnt have the luxury of having fun shows right through the day. You got to see one...maybe two...interesting shows on a Sunday. I'd make sure that I spaced my sandwiches (or Maggie) right so that the last bite would be a min or two before that fun hr ended.
It was optimization of a simple joy.
In Malegaon, the small town where my folks live, premium bread was very hard to come by, back in the day. So the bread we got was made at the local bakery...simply called "Apni Bakery". It had the best naankatai, khaari biscuits and loose 'Nice' biscuits which he sold by weight. It was fascinating for a young city boy.
The bread wasn't always very tasty and the slices were really small. Possibly 2.5 inch square. Tiny. But the intriguing part was that it didnt come from some faceless corporation. It was made by the guy I spoke to at the counter.
The days have changed and my brain and senses are overwhelmed by a flood of bread choices- white, whole wheat, 5 grain, 7 grain, sourdough, baguettes, foccacia, and what not. But none has an association. Usually, I buy the same brand of bread but I'd be damned if I remember the name.
A simple thing...a simple trigger. A sweet memory.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
The week that was
Seems just like yesterday that I blogged. Turns out it was 5 days ago.
The week was 5 days of good , solid hard work and nothing else really. All the things I plan that I want to do on a day to day basis come to nought. I want to read some every day. I want to write a page or two every day. Just doesn't happen. It takes discipline to do thing you like on a daily basis, especially if you work 9 to 9 or 9 to 10 everyday.
I need to take control of my life. I love the thrill of the chase in business. I love my work on days it is exciting. But I have so much more to offer. So many more skills to develop.
I'm just afraid, someday I might decide to drop it all and become some traveling hippie. Well, that's not REALLY going to happen. But I don't want to tire of this fun at work. I have a short attention span. Thank God consulting love THAT as much as I do.
The week was 5 days of good , solid hard work and nothing else really. All the things I plan that I want to do on a day to day basis come to nought. I want to read some every day. I want to write a page or two every day. Just doesn't happen. It takes discipline to do thing you like on a daily basis, especially if you work 9 to 9 or 9 to 10 everyday.
I need to take control of my life. I love the thrill of the chase in business. I love my work on days it is exciting. But I have so much more to offer. So many more skills to develop.
I'm just afraid, someday I might decide to drop it all and become some traveling hippie. Well, that's not REALLY going to happen. But I don't want to tire of this fun at work. I have a short attention span. Thank God consulting love THAT as much as I do.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
A fun filled winter afternoon
So yesterday was tepid. So what? The temperature was close to freezing..or at least its 'LA equivalent'. The regular LA person begins to describe the temperature as "it's freezing" when it falls below 50 or 45F. When it falls to 35ish you know the end of human existence and the next Ice Age is near.
Well today wasn't quite all bad. In fact today was a lot of fun! Unanticipatedly!
Alps has been salivating at BMers and Audis for quite some time now. He is finally out on the market for a BMer. Went out to look for one and I thought I overheard them say that they were going out shooting. I decided to join in.
So visualize this. 4-5 desi guys in a car. One guy gets out...this in a posh neighborhood...goes to another car's boot, takes out a shotgun that looks more like an anti aircraft gun to me, and peacefully examines it on the road. NOT the kind of thing you want to be doing in the street these days. But Jude isn't given to such rational thought.
Went for desi food and it took us so long to get our ration of parathas, chole bhaturas, and lassi that it was well on 4 pm when we got out of there. Place closes at 5pm in the seedy San Fernando valley.
We were reluctant. Altaf was insistent. He won.
So we were on our way there, got there just in time to hear that it was closing.
The lady still let us through. So we got through to the skeet shooting range with Jude's howitzer.
I was freezing my bollocks off even with a thermal combo on. And I'm supposed to be OK with cold.
So we shot 3 shots each of that death-donor gun. That thing is LOUD. As usual, I didnt take ear muffs or ear plugs and though not deafening, each slug makes you wince.
As you'd expect, its damn difficult to hit a skeet with a shotgun slug.
So we were getting a few shots off, when this chunky old Bubba walked up to us in all right ernest and on his way started out loudly that he had 5 issues with us (color wasn't one of them).
The primary one being this wasn't your usual skeet shooting gun but a mother of a...as I have said before...defense shotgun. The kind that you keep under your bed and gives thieves a heart attack when you show it to them.
Net net- We weren't allowed to shoot further.
I'm not sure I'm ready for skeet shooting or for trap shooting just yet.
I prefer indoor or outdoor pistol or air rifle shooting. I prefer the peace and concentration there than the ruckus out in the field with skeet. Next time is going to be some pistol and possible some air rifle. At $40 it isnt too cheap but isnt too exhorbitant either.
So gout out of there early. Came back home by 5:45ish and the gang wanted to do something else.
Decided tennis was it. Went to the local floodlit facility for a few games.
I was rusty initially...the first 15 mins. Havent played in a long time.
But after a few warm-up faux pas...I was ready to serve a few zingers that really whistled out.
I was getting great whip, speed and angle. Jude was standing a clear 5-7 ft behind the baseline to take my serves. Felt hella good.
Played for close on 2-3 hrs. Tomorrow...this is going to hurt a lot. A LOT!
So back home I'm in my room, sitting on my pillow, and blogging my ass off.
It's been a peaceful weekend. An end to 10 slow rested days...were they really so rested? Maybe not.
But one thing is for sure. I'm beginning to do way more interesting things that a) I couldnt afford as a student and b) I possibly never would do in India.
But it's been fun over all.
Next few things in the pipeline
1) Learn golf
2) Learn scuba diving- wanna scuba dive on the great barrier reef one day
3) Sky dive
4) Para-glide
5) BASE jump
6) Snorkle
LAst but not the least 7) SURF BABY!!!!
Well today wasn't quite all bad. In fact today was a lot of fun! Unanticipatedly!
Alps has been salivating at BMers and Audis for quite some time now. He is finally out on the market for a BMer. Went out to look for one and I thought I overheard them say that they were going out shooting. I decided to join in.
So visualize this. 4-5 desi guys in a car. One guy gets out...this in a posh neighborhood...goes to another car's boot, takes out a shotgun that looks more like an anti aircraft gun to me, and peacefully examines it on the road. NOT the kind of thing you want to be doing in the street these days. But Jude isn't given to such rational thought.
Went for desi food and it took us so long to get our ration of parathas, chole bhaturas, and lassi that it was well on 4 pm when we got out of there. Place closes at 5pm in the seedy San Fernando valley.
We were reluctant. Altaf was insistent. He won.
So we were on our way there, got there just in time to hear that it was closing.
The lady still let us through. So we got through to the skeet shooting range with Jude's howitzer.
I was freezing my bollocks off even with a thermal combo on. And I'm supposed to be OK with cold.
So we shot 3 shots each of that death-donor gun. That thing is LOUD. As usual, I didnt take ear muffs or ear plugs and though not deafening, each slug makes you wince.
As you'd expect, its damn difficult to hit a skeet with a shotgun slug.
So we were getting a few shots off, when this chunky old Bubba walked up to us in all right ernest and on his way started out loudly that he had 5 issues with us (color wasn't one of them).
The primary one being this wasn't your usual skeet shooting gun but a mother of a...as I have said before...defense shotgun. The kind that you keep under your bed and gives thieves a heart attack when you show it to them.
Net net- We weren't allowed to shoot further.
I'm not sure I'm ready for skeet shooting or for trap shooting just yet.
I prefer indoor or outdoor pistol or air rifle shooting. I prefer the peace and concentration there than the ruckus out in the field with skeet. Next time is going to be some pistol and possible some air rifle. At $40 it isnt too cheap but isnt too exhorbitant either.
So gout out of there early. Came back home by 5:45ish and the gang wanted to do something else.
Decided tennis was it. Went to the local floodlit facility for a few games.
I was rusty initially...the first 15 mins. Havent played in a long time.
But after a few warm-up faux pas...I was ready to serve a few zingers that really whistled out.
I was getting great whip, speed and angle. Jude was standing a clear 5-7 ft behind the baseline to take my serves. Felt hella good.
Played for close on 2-3 hrs. Tomorrow...this is going to hurt a lot. A LOT!
So back home I'm in my room, sitting on my pillow, and blogging my ass off.
It's been a peaceful weekend. An end to 10 slow rested days...were they really so rested? Maybe not.
But one thing is for sure. I'm beginning to do way more interesting things that a) I couldnt afford as a student and b) I possibly never would do in India.
But it's been fun over all.
Next few things in the pipeline
1) Learn golf
2) Learn scuba diving- wanna scuba dive on the great barrier reef one day
3) Sky dive
4) Para-glide
5) BASE jump
6) Snorkle
LAst but not the least 7) SURF BABY!!!!
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Hora from Boston
Boston is a global city. It is an international city. It has a personality. A personality that has come with age and having seen many a blizzard and snow storms. Of having lived through rain and hail and wind. A face leathered by the forces of nature. Of a face with lines. Of a work of art.
They say tell a man by his underwear, a woman by her stockings and a country by the way it treats its old.
In the same vein, tell a city by its downtown.
I'm not sure where Boston downtown is. I'm not sure if I'm in Boston downtown right now.
I'm putting up at a fairly nice hotel (its NOT a Four Seasons or Parker Meridian but hey I'm not a Partner or a VC yet) across from Qunicy'a market.
The place is replete with tradition and stories and history.
The whizzened face of this old city.
I walked around the financial district and along the harbor, as is my wont when I go to a new city. Walking around a city gives one a good feel for the city and its people.
Leaving my cold induced bias against Boston aside I have enjoyed my first few days here.
It has the typical East Coast Old England charm to it.
Add to it the spectacular views from the 39th floor of my office building.
Overall, I came away impressed though not in love.
Like I say about SF-a love affair with SF is a love affair waiting to happen.
The British lilt to the speech of Bostonian women is intriguing...but it is an intrigue more of novelty. Not one designed to make me fall in love for ever and ever.
They say tell a man by his underwear, a woman by her stockings and a country by the way it treats its old.
In the same vein, tell a city by its downtown.
I'm not sure where Boston downtown is. I'm not sure if I'm in Boston downtown right now.
I'm putting up at a fairly nice hotel (its NOT a Four Seasons or Parker Meridian but hey I'm not a Partner or a VC yet) across from Qunicy'a market.
The place is replete with tradition and stories and history.
The whizzened face of this old city.
I walked around the financial district and along the harbor, as is my wont when I go to a new city. Walking around a city gives one a good feel for the city and its people.
Leaving my cold induced bias against Boston aside I have enjoyed my first few days here.
It has the typical East Coast Old England charm to it.
Add to it the spectacular views from the 39th floor of my office building.
Overall, I came away impressed though not in love.
Like I say about SF-a love affair with SF is a love affair waiting to happen.
The British lilt to the speech of Bostonian women is intriguing...but it is an intrigue more of novelty. Not one designed to make me fall in love for ever and ever.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Med School friends come back into my life
For a fairly long time I was not in touch with the med school gang.
Lotsa reasons really.
1) They were getting their asses whipped in residency
2) Too busy trying to stand up on their own two feet
3) Trying to work 4 jobs at once to make some money to open a clinic
4) Trying to manage an affair or a marriage at the same time
5) Desi docs are not technophiles
So 4-5 yrs after the dumbest webheads and netheads in India had discovered Orkut my classmates discovered it too. Slowly, they are beginning to trickle in.
My school community which was almost exclusively juniors now has a growing contingent of the oldies who were my super senrs.
Old cricket matches, annual functions, professors, asshole bureaucrats in college, Prithvish, Rangoli, Rajawadi, Kurla Bhabha, locals, bike ride in the rain to college, casulty...everything came down in a mad rush of memories.
When they were happening to me I was unhappy, angry, sad, disappointed with that life. I deserved better. But humans have a way of rationalizing the past. Of romanticizing it. Of glorifying it. Of certain events being enhanced just that little bit with every narration till every day in that past begins to seem like the perfect day in a Paradise. A Paradise that wasn't.
Some friends I don't identify with now. Some folks I didnt care about much back then and dont care much about now. But in that glorified past, even they get tagged as friends. Friends become almost brother like.
Makes one yearn for that past.
It wasnt all bad.
There is good in the world. There was good in my past.
We were co-passengers on a journey to a common destination...or to a common transit point.
Some of these co-passengers stay with us through to the end of life's journey. Some we part with at transit. Hopefully, they were a pleasure for whatever time you spent together.
You may meet them later, at another transit point in life.
Share a few beers, revive memories and move on.
Transits cannot become destinations...don't treat them as such.
Lotsa reasons really.
1) They were getting their asses whipped in residency
2) Too busy trying to stand up on their own two feet
3) Trying to work 4 jobs at once to make some money to open a clinic
4) Trying to manage an affair or a marriage at the same time
5) Desi docs are not technophiles
So 4-5 yrs after the dumbest webheads and netheads in India had discovered Orkut my classmates discovered it too. Slowly, they are beginning to trickle in.
My school community which was almost exclusively juniors now has a growing contingent of the oldies who were my super senrs.
Old cricket matches, annual functions, professors, asshole bureaucrats in college, Prithvish, Rangoli, Rajawadi, Kurla Bhabha, locals, bike ride in the rain to college, casulty...everything came down in a mad rush of memories.
When they were happening to me I was unhappy, angry, sad, disappointed with that life. I deserved better. But humans have a way of rationalizing the past. Of romanticizing it. Of glorifying it. Of certain events being enhanced just that little bit with every narration till every day in that past begins to seem like the perfect day in a Paradise. A Paradise that wasn't.
Some friends I don't identify with now. Some folks I didnt care about much back then and dont care much about now. But in that glorified past, even they get tagged as friends. Friends become almost brother like.
Makes one yearn for that past.
It wasnt all bad.
There is good in the world. There was good in my past.
We were co-passengers on a journey to a common destination...or to a common transit point.
Some of these co-passengers stay with us through to the end of life's journey. Some we part with at transit. Hopefully, they were a pleasure for whatever time you spent together.
You may meet them later, at another transit point in life.
Share a few beers, revive memories and move on.
Transits cannot become destinations...don't treat them as such.
Monday, January 01, 2007
Funny one liner by my med prof-1
Friend: Sir, I have joined a psychiatry residency
Prof: Oh, why did you leave clinical medicine???
BAM! POW!
Prof:1 Psychiatry:0
Prof: Oh, why did you leave clinical medicine???
BAM! POW!
Prof:1 Psychiatry:0
Sunday, December 31, 2006
New Years Eve
Without friends and family around, NY Eve is just another evening at home.
It would be depressing if I was in Mumbai and sitting at home, even in Baltimore or in the Bay area, maybe. But in LA it aint even depressing.
It would be depressing if I was in Mumbai and sitting at home, even in Baltimore or in the Bay area, maybe. But in LA it aint even depressing.
In defense of capitalism
A zinger of a last para in an article from 'The Economist'.
"To find the market system wanting because it does not bring joy as well as growth is to place too heavy a burden on it. Capitalism can make you well off. And it also leaves you free to be as unhappy as you choose. To ask any more of it would be asking too much. "
"To find the market system wanting because it does not bring joy as well as growth is to place too heavy a burden on it. Capitalism can make you well off. And it also leaves you free to be as unhappy as you choose. To ask any more of it would be asking too much. "
Friday, December 29, 2006
Why is a man paid well?
This has been a question that has made many a man go sleepless.
Why does Mr. Jones or Mr. Chen or Mr. Patel next door make more money than I do? Why does that guy, in my jnr. college, whom we all used to think of as the dumbest ass that walked the corridors make more money than I do? I was smarter than him. I should be making more money and having an easier and more comfortable life. But thats not the case!
All he does is spends time counting money...money made without personal effort or any considerable intelligence.
What exactly makes some men more money than others?
Money is a fickle lover. Entices some who had never much thought of it and yet makes its lovers and worshippers pine away for years.
Being more analytical minded (and a consulting type) I had to plot it on a graph...hopefully without the z axis, which would have been more realistic.
So, taking the principle of parsimon(e)y into consideration, let's say money coming to a man (or woman) is directly related to the risk the person is taking and the value he/she is adding.
Sure, in consultant speak, the word value is thrown around more often than anything else.
What does value mean?
In my mind I think I'm clear about the concept and let me put it through to you.
Value is the difference ONE sip of water makes to a parched person compared to the difference it makes to someone who has just had a few pints of the colourless, wet stuff.
Therein lies the essence of value, especially when you can do it for a hell of a lot of people.
What exactly is risk?
Risk is going outdoors in the rainy season without an umbrella in your finest clothes.
Sometimes you have access to a weather report or look at the sky and make a judgment call. Sometimes you don't. What you decide to do depends on your appetite for risk.
But the biggest adjustment here, is adjusting for luck. Lot of individualists don't believe in luck. I do. Why some oil rich sheiks are rich because of oil, something they dont really have a role to play in, can't be explained by risk or value. Why your neighbor won the $75 M lotto while you still live in a trailer home isn't explained by risk or value. It's just good ol darned luck and there ain't a darned sight you can do about that.
OK So let's try to look at the spread of values in the risk/value v/s return graph.
Let's walk through a few random examples of professions that are known to make more (or less) money and their risk value profiles.
1) Doctors- Heck I am one (or was one). Kinda natural that this be the first profile examined.
These guys put in donkey's years getting a degree. Especially, in this day and age you can get into med school wanting to be a cardiologist and come out become a gynecologist or a radiation oncologist or just a pill pushing primary care guy.
You might love the heart but might end up being a nut specialist (that makes you either a psychiatrist or a urologist- take your pick)
So there is a lot of risk, will you get the specialty you like, will you get a lucrative specalty? Will you get a specialty education at all? Or would you be left licking the leftovers at the bottom of the pecking order?
Doctors, make a big chunk of money, in any society because they do take risks...but even more so because they add value.
They actually go about the business of trying to understand the most complicated machine ever, the human body. And then they tinker with it when it is messed up and in ill health and restore your health and vigor.
That's value as value comes.
Ne'er is there been more joy than in robust health.
I believe it is this value, more than the risk, that makes many doctors the kind of returns that we see and hear about.
Even within this group, the ones who work with the riskiest areas, the heart and brain make more money.
Surgeons more than physicians is also based on a very similar risk as well as value proposition.
2) Finance professionals
Now these are the guys that make the big fat pay checks.
In this profession, risk (and risk analysis) is king. More the risk, more the return.
The riskiest of the lot- bond traders, commodity traders, derivatives chaps, leveraged buyout gangs are the guys that make the biggest bucks in this kettle.
They work a good 16 hr day, burn their soul taking risks constantly on trades and either make (or lose) a lot of money. A few others are number crunching machines with a lot of brain horse power. I have seen a few complex risk models and to be truthfully it made me feel woozy in the head looking at it...leave alone trying to make one of my own and make it work!
On the other hand, your friendly neighborhood equity analyst doesn't make as much money while the hedge fund guy does.
This is all risk play and the value is the returns they bring to their investors.
Take the example of the fund managers for the world's largest endowement fund. The Harvard alumni endowement fund. Some $20+ BILLION fund. Most folks, with that kind of money, can make it grow fairly well.
But the Aetna gang seems to make it grow really well and make double digit million packages (or so we heard) as compensation. Lot of people are not very happy. How can managers of a non profit fund make so much money. But the simple fact remains that even after their big fat pay checks, the managers still make better returns for the fund compared to other investors.
Go figure.
3) Businessmen
Whether you sell marriage type ghagra cholis at Manish market or duty free imported smuggled maal at Heera Panna or have a confectioners business or are a high end chip manufacturer, chances are that you make way more money than the avg salaried Joe-Shmoe.
Businessmen take risk-risk of failure of the enterprise, risk of slow downs, risk of increased costs or competition, risk of supply chain issues, risk of labor issues, risk of regulatory and licensing issues, risk of a few hundred thousand different issues that come with handling a P&L.
Businessmen also add value.
They bring products to customers and competition to the market place, which are both lofty achievements in a capitalist set up.
They bring bread to our table, newspaper to our loos, chips with salsa and chips in our computers. They create every single thing we use all through the day, all through our life. From the humblest match box to the mightiest gadgets are made by these risk taking entrepreneurs and old businesses.
4) Government office babu
This 35 hour working, 90 mins lunch break taking, life long one job guy is for me the ultimate symbol of the risk averse man. A fair bit of these guys have no significant expectations from life, save two square meals a day for self and family. Sure, they would love more, and therein lies the reason for the unchecked corruption in the sclerotic babudom but when return for risk and effort is considered, your friendly neighborhood babu wants it as low risk as it comes.
Even better when the Govt provides subsidized housing, an office car with a flashing red light on the top, so their family can use it like a family car, a few more freebies maybe and a foreign junket thrown in, squares it up nicely.
Add to this the fact that the job and its accompanying perks near lifelong.
In short you have a situation of fairly low risk low value high returns. No wonder then that the Civil services are so widely sought after.
5) Joe-Shmoe pen pusher
When this is a 'not so empowered' person...I think it's just life. But when I see an empowered person mired in a 'going nowhere' slow job it rouses the worst of my emotions. Especially when the person is doing the job out of his own free will.
Sure sure I respect the individual freedom that our system bestows upon us to make choices but what I end up not respecting is the choice the person made.
The choice (and its attendant drivers) go against my core values of ambition, individualism, achievement and contribution.
For all the BS people will peddle to you about work life balance and 'there are lot of good people out there'...here's the secret lt out of the bag. There arent enough good people to go around. Good people who would make a significant difference.
They say "With great power comes great responsibility".
If you are smart and have the requisite tools and you decide to cool your heels because you like the slow life...I tend to see it as an abdication of responsibility.
This is the low risk low value low return scenario.
It is a sad story of our society that many people wallow in this category for want of effort or that of ambition.
At the end of the day a lot is unsaid and undiscussed.
A matter for a book maybe.
Why does one person become a Steve Jobs? and another person doesnt?
Why does one bright idea become Google but another idea doesnt?
How are some people able to monetize those ideas and some people cant get a penny for their thoughts?
Why does Mr. Jones or Mr. Chen or Mr. Patel next door make more money than I do? Why does that guy, in my jnr. college, whom we all used to think of as the dumbest ass that walked the corridors make more money than I do? I was smarter than him. I should be making more money and having an easier and more comfortable life. But thats not the case!
All he does is spends time counting money...money made without personal effort or any considerable intelligence.
What exactly makes some men more money than others?
Money is a fickle lover. Entices some who had never much thought of it and yet makes its lovers and worshippers pine away for years.
Being more analytical minded (and a consulting type) I had to plot it on a graph...hopefully without the z axis, which would have been more realistic.
So, taking the principle of parsimon(e)y into consideration, let's say money coming to a man (or woman) is directly related to the risk the person is taking and the value he/she is adding.
Sure, in consultant speak, the word value is thrown around more often than anything else.
What does value mean?
In my mind I think I'm clear about the concept and let me put it through to you.
Value is the difference ONE sip of water makes to a parched person compared to the difference it makes to someone who has just had a few pints of the colourless, wet stuff.
Therein lies the essence of value, especially when you can do it for a hell of a lot of people.
What exactly is risk?
Risk is going outdoors in the rainy season without an umbrella in your finest clothes.
Sometimes you have access to a weather report or look at the sky and make a judgment call. Sometimes you don't. What you decide to do depends on your appetite for risk.
But the biggest adjustment here, is adjusting for luck. Lot of individualists don't believe in luck. I do. Why some oil rich sheiks are rich because of oil, something they dont really have a role to play in, can't be explained by risk or value. Why your neighbor won the $75 M lotto while you still live in a trailer home isn't explained by risk or value. It's just good ol darned luck and there ain't a darned sight you can do about that.
OK So let's try to look at the spread of values in the risk/value v/s return graph.
Let's walk through a few random examples of professions that are known to make more (or less) money and their risk value profiles.
1) Doctors- Heck I am one (or was one). Kinda natural that this be the first profile examined.
These guys put in donkey's years getting a degree. Especially, in this day and age you can get into med school wanting to be a cardiologist and come out become a gynecologist or a radiation oncologist or just a pill pushing primary care guy.
You might love the heart but might end up being a nut specialist (that makes you either a psychiatrist or a urologist- take your pick)
So there is a lot of risk, will you get the specialty you like, will you get a lucrative specalty? Will you get a specialty education at all? Or would you be left licking the leftovers at the bottom of the pecking order?
Doctors, make a big chunk of money, in any society because they do take risks...but even more so because they add value.
They actually go about the business of trying to understand the most complicated machine ever, the human body. And then they tinker with it when it is messed up and in ill health and restore your health and vigor.
That's value as value comes.
Ne'er is there been more joy than in robust health.
I believe it is this value, more than the risk, that makes many doctors the kind of returns that we see and hear about.
Even within this group, the ones who work with the riskiest areas, the heart and brain make more money.
Surgeons more than physicians is also based on a very similar risk as well as value proposition.
2) Finance professionals
Now these are the guys that make the big fat pay checks.
In this profession, risk (and risk analysis) is king. More the risk, more the return.
The riskiest of the lot- bond traders, commodity traders, derivatives chaps, leveraged buyout gangs are the guys that make the biggest bucks in this kettle.
They work a good 16 hr day, burn their soul taking risks constantly on trades and either make (or lose) a lot of money. A few others are number crunching machines with a lot of brain horse power. I have seen a few complex risk models and to be truthfully it made me feel woozy in the head looking at it...leave alone trying to make one of my own and make it work!
On the other hand, your friendly neighborhood equity analyst doesn't make as much money while the hedge fund guy does.
This is all risk play and the value is the returns they bring to their investors.
Take the example of the fund managers for the world's largest endowement fund. The Harvard alumni endowement fund. Some $20+ BILLION fund. Most folks, with that kind of money, can make it grow fairly well.
But the Aetna gang seems to make it grow really well and make double digit million packages (or so we heard) as compensation. Lot of people are not very happy. How can managers of a non profit fund make so much money. But the simple fact remains that even after their big fat pay checks, the managers still make better returns for the fund compared to other investors.
Go figure.
3) Businessmen
Whether you sell marriage type ghagra cholis at Manish market or duty free imported smuggled maal at Heera Panna or have a confectioners business or are a high end chip manufacturer, chances are that you make way more money than the avg salaried Joe-Shmoe.
Businessmen take risk-risk of failure of the enterprise, risk of slow downs, risk of increased costs or competition, risk of supply chain issues, risk of labor issues, risk of regulatory and licensing issues, risk of a few hundred thousand different issues that come with handling a P&L.
Businessmen also add value.
They bring products to customers and competition to the market place, which are both lofty achievements in a capitalist set up.
They bring bread to our table, newspaper to our loos, chips with salsa and chips in our computers. They create every single thing we use all through the day, all through our life. From the humblest match box to the mightiest gadgets are made by these risk taking entrepreneurs and old businesses.
4) Government office babu
This 35 hour working, 90 mins lunch break taking, life long one job guy is for me the ultimate symbol of the risk averse man. A fair bit of these guys have no significant expectations from life, save two square meals a day for self and family. Sure, they would love more, and therein lies the reason for the unchecked corruption in the sclerotic babudom but when return for risk and effort is considered, your friendly neighborhood babu wants it as low risk as it comes.
Even better when the Govt provides subsidized housing, an office car with a flashing red light on the top, so their family can use it like a family car, a few more freebies maybe and a foreign junket thrown in, squares it up nicely.
Add to this the fact that the job and its accompanying perks near lifelong.
In short you have a situation of fairly low risk low value high returns. No wonder then that the Civil services are so widely sought after.
5) Joe-Shmoe pen pusher
When this is a 'not so empowered' person...I think it's just life. But when I see an empowered person mired in a 'going nowhere' slow job it rouses the worst of my emotions. Especially when the person is doing the job out of his own free will.
Sure sure I respect the individual freedom that our system bestows upon us to make choices but what I end up not respecting is the choice the person made.
The choice (and its attendant drivers) go against my core values of ambition, individualism, achievement and contribution.
For all the BS people will peddle to you about work life balance and 'there are lot of good people out there'...here's the secret lt out of the bag. There arent enough good people to go around. Good people who would make a significant difference.
They say "With great power comes great responsibility".
If you are smart and have the requisite tools and you decide to cool your heels because you like the slow life...I tend to see it as an abdication of responsibility.
This is the low risk low value low return scenario.
It is a sad story of our society that many people wallow in this category for want of effort or that of ambition.
At the end of the day a lot is unsaid and undiscussed.
A matter for a book maybe.
Why does one person become a Steve Jobs? and another person doesnt?
Why does one bright idea become Google but another idea doesnt?
How are some people able to monetize those ideas and some people cant get a penny for their thoughts?
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