Only a few hours ago I was happy to hear that my friend and colleague, who until now worked for another team but was not happy doing so, is moving into my extended department. This was an occasion to celebrate, raise a toast. But first things first, we decided. We set up a conference with my
That night we returned home happy, thanking god for small mercies he showered on us. I hitched a ride with him because we stayed in the same neighborhood. During the ride, e spoke about our old times in the cab and the funny incidents that brought us joy during times of strife. It was a rather short ride homewards. I thanked him for the ride and slept peacefully that night.
The next day we were invited by the product managers to take stock of the ground situation and plan our future actions based on the estimated work load. The meeting was scheduled for 11:00 am. At 9:10, my friend showed up at my seat. When he insisted that we should go 'out' but not the cafeteria for tea, I could read his mind. In my heart of hearts I vehemently tried to avoid any negative thoughts. Finally, he broke the news at 9:30 over a cup of tea. One of his past efforts had paid off. He is on the verge of conquering the world. Can "I" stop him? No one can.
I am happy for him; but am also sad that he will not be working with us. We will still be in touch. He's too precious to let go; I'll miss him as a friend, humorist, guide, fellow blogger.
I had always encouraged him to look for another job when he complained about the indifference shown by his team lead; I sensed that his ego had been bruised. A new job and new environment would have helped tide over the past. I hadn't dreamt that one day we may get the opportunity to work together. Now, I am falling prey to my advices. The year-long struggle in his erstwhile department had made him sore and stubborn. Naturally, he started hunting for a greener pasture, and I hope the one he has found for himself is very green.
But I cannot imagine how companies can take as long as six months to close a position. This happened to my friend. At the new company that my friend will join, he had interviewed in September 2005. Today, when he finally got the offer letter, is March 17, 2006. Unbelievable! But then strange are the ways in which companies work. I wish him the best in his future.
I am back to square one. The building has to be raised from ground up. I'll enjoy doing it as much as I had expected I would when this friend moved in to our team. I am off to meet my manager…
Friday, March 17, 2006
Painful but true
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
It's a wife's job to listen to her husband...
There was a man who had worked all of his life and had saved all of his money. He was a real miser when it came to his money. He loved money more than just about anything, and just before he died, he said to his wife, "Now listen, when I die, I want you to take all my money and place it in the casket with me. I wanna take my money to the afterlife."
So he got his wife to promise him with all her heart that when he died, she would put all the money in the casket with him. Well, one day he died. He was stretched out in the casket, the wife was sitting there in black next to her closest friend. When they finished the ceremony, just before the undertakers got ready to close the casket, the wife said "Wait just a minute!" She had a shoe box with her, she came over with the box and placed it in the casket.
Then the undertakers locked the casket down and rolled it away.
Her friend said, "I hope you weren't crazy enough to put all that money in the casket."
She said, Yes, I promised. I'm a good Christian, I can't lie. I promised him that I was going to put that money in that casket with him." "You mean to tell me you put every cent of his money in the casket with him?" "I sure did," said the wife. "I got it all together, put it into my account and I wrote him a cheque."
So he got his wife to promise him with all her heart that when he died, she would put all the money in the casket with him. Well, one day he died. He was stretched out in the casket, the wife was sitting there in black next to her closest friend. When they finished the ceremony, just before the undertakers got ready to close the casket, the wife said "Wait just a minute!" She had a shoe box with her, she came over with the box and placed it in the casket.
Then the undertakers locked the casket down and rolled it away.
Her friend said, "I hope you weren't crazy enough to put all that money in the casket."
She said, Yes, I promised. I'm a good Christian, I can't lie. I promised him that I was going to put that money in that casket with him." "You mean to tell me you put every cent of his money in the casket with him?" "I sure did," said the wife. "I got it all together, put it into my account and I wrote him a cheque."
Interesting one liners!
*Interesting one liners!!!*
- Join the army, see the world, meet interesting people, and kill them.
- Until I was 13, I thought my name was 'Shut Up.'
- I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens.
- Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.
- I've never been drunk, but often I've been over served.
- The road to success is always under construction.
- I say no to drugs -- they just don't listen!
- Marriage is one of the chief causes of divorce.
- Work is fine if it doesn't take up too much of your time.
- When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
- Born free; Taxed to death.
- Everyone has a photographic memory; some people just don't have film.
- Life is unsure; always eat your dessert first.
- Smile -- it makes people wonder what you're up to.
- I love being a writer... what I can't stand is the paperwork.
- A printer consists of 3 main parts: the case, the jammed paper tray and the blinking red light.
- The hardest part of skating is the ice.
- The guy who invented the first wheel was an idiot; the guy who invented the other three, he was the genius.
- The trouble with being punctual is that there's no one there to appreciate it.
- If our constitution allows us free speech, why are there phone bills?
- If you tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe, he'll believe you. But if you tell him a park bench has just been painted, he has to touch it to be sure.
- Beat the 5 O'clock rush: leave work at noon!
- If you can't convince them, confuse them.
- It's not the fall that kills you; it's the sudden stop at the end.
- I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.
- Someday is not a day of the week.
- When I was born, I was so surprised I didn't talk for a year and a half.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Coffee time
A forward from my friend's circle...
A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got togetherto visit their old university Professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.
Offering his guests coffee, the Prof went to the kitchen and returnedwith a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups: porcelain, plastic, glass, some plain-looking and some expensive and exquisite, telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.
When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand,the lecturer said: "If you noticed, all the nice-looking, expensive cups were taken up,leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is quite normal foryou to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of yourproblems and stress.
What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but youConsciously went for the better cups and are eyeing each other'scups."
"Now, if Life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in societyare the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but thequality of Life doesn't change."
"Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy thecoffee in it."
So friend, don't let the cups drive you...enjoy the coffee instead.
A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got togetherto visit their old university Professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.
Offering his guests coffee, the Prof went to the kitchen and returnedwith a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups: porcelain, plastic, glass, some plain-looking and some expensive and exquisite, telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.
When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand,the lecturer said: "If you noticed, all the nice-looking, expensive cups were taken up,leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is quite normal foryou to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of yourproblems and stress.
What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but youConsciously went for the better cups and are eyeing each other'scups."
"Now, if Life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in societyare the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but thequality of Life doesn't change."
"Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy thecoffee in it."
So friend, don't let the cups drive you...enjoy the coffee instead.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Jemba2006
In July 2005, I had the rare opportunity to interact with MBA students from the London Business School (http://www.london.edu/). Though I was introduced to them as an official translator who would assist one of the 14 teams to accomplish their project, I saw it as an opportunity for cultural exchange and some fun at the expense of office work. When I asked my boss if he knew people, preferably students, who would volunteer as guides, he did well to ignore my prudent attempts at tricking him to give me three days leave.
There were nearly 80 Executive MBA students with average work experience of 10 years. The youngest was 27 years (Charlotte) and the oldest in their mid 4os. I had no reasons to be particularly happy about HIS decision to put one of the only PYTs in my team. But I was certainly disappointed when I heard that she was going strong with her Irish boyfriend. Darn cupid and damn the first strike! HE made amends by giving me not the slightest chance for nurturing any more mushy thoughts about my team so that I could focus on what I was invited to do. The remaining four students - three guys and a lady (Belinda) - were too serious or guys for my tastes.
Among the students who I was in charge, there was a Vice-President with Morgan Stanley (Sonny) and a Marketing Manager from Munich Re (Will). The third guy in the team was an NRI from Kolkata (Tarun).
Tarun was back in India after 14 years but had no plans to visit his folks in small town Kolkata. He worked for Capgemini. I was surprised when he remarked that nothing has changed in India since he last visited here; many of my friends visiting Bangalore after two or three months blabber about the mammoth changes that have undergone this city. And, here we have an NRI who thinks nothing has changed in 14 years. Tall claims by any standards. Noticing my apprehensions, he quickly clarified that he was referring to the “vehicle-infested roads, bumper-to-bumper traffic, beggars and stray cattle…” The list seemed endless putting me in a spot of bother and shame.
The other students were also high profile and had clear reasons for doing the Executive MBA. It didn’t surprise me that the Jemba 2006 batch of EMBA had chosen India ahead of other countries for their internship program. To me their decision spoke more about the emergence of India as an economic power (I would hesitate to call her a super power yet!) than their interest in our culture and history, which would have been the case in the early 90s.
So here they were in many-a-times-dubiously-in-the-news Bangalore wanting to make the best out of their week-long stay. When the agenda was set on the day of their reception at the Royal Orchid, it became clear to Tabby (the other guide) and I that Jemba 2006 batch had their tasks cut out - visit a specialized industry (manufacturing, IT, healthcare, hospitality, etc.); study their management patterns; find gaps in the internal communication process; compile the data; analyze and discuss with the company Management; and suggest improvement measures.
It was a rock-and-roll party for four days (the translators and the sutdents may have different opinions on this) starting with banquet at Royal Orchid. Our team would visit a manufacturing unit on the outskirts of Bangalore with the following agenda – meet the company's top management, middle management, and finally, the most important link in the communication chain, the laborers to study their communication process. The sumptuous lunch, sarcastic jokes and bullying apart, it was business as usual from the word go.
After the initial meetings and floor visits, we huddled into a conference hall to review and revise the communication questionnaire. We had three days in all and three employee layers to interview. We set off with a series of meetings with the middle management of the company. What started as a process to first understand and then identify communication gaps, turned into a conundrum when the interviewers and interviewees found themselves well short of being able to adjust to each others’ language and accent. There lies my chance and raison d'etre, I thought. Donning my translator cap I jumped into the ring. Translation is an oxymoron here because the “From” language, the “To” language, and my interpretations were all in English…that too an all too familiar British English. In the end I was happy that my skills were put to best use for the team.
After three thoroughly enjoyable days, it was not easy returning to work. I had become a student and learner; moreover, I had rediscovered the urge to pursue an MBA. As days passed, the sweet memories began to blur, until one morning when a little birdie delivered the following note of thanks taking me back in time and memory:
Hello Prashant,
Thank you for all your help with the focus groups last week. We truly appreciate your assistance and the fact that you took time out from work to be with us. We hope you found the experience interesting and rewarding.
We're now back in the UK after some lengthy delays due to the Mumbai weather.
Please keep in touch.
Thanks,
Belinda, Sonny, Tarun, Will and Charlotte
There were nearly 80 Executive MBA students with average work experience of 10 years. The youngest was 27 years (Charlotte) and the oldest in their mid 4os. I had no reasons to be particularly happy about HIS decision to put one of the only PYTs in my team. But I was certainly disappointed when I heard that she was going strong with her Irish boyfriend. Darn cupid and damn the first strike! HE made amends by giving me not the slightest chance for nurturing any more mushy thoughts about my team so that I could focus on what I was invited to do. The remaining four students - three guys and a lady (Belinda) - were too serious or guys for my tastes.
Among the students who I was in charge, there was a Vice-President with Morgan Stanley (Sonny) and a Marketing Manager from Munich Re (Will). The third guy in the team was an NRI from Kolkata (Tarun).
Tarun was back in India after 14 years but had no plans to visit his folks in small town Kolkata. He worked for Capgemini. I was surprised when he remarked that nothing has changed in India since he last visited here; many of my friends visiting Bangalore after two or three months blabber about the mammoth changes that have undergone this city. And, here we have an NRI who thinks nothing has changed in 14 years. Tall claims by any standards. Noticing my apprehensions, he quickly clarified that he was referring to the “vehicle-infested roads, bumper-to-bumper traffic, beggars and stray cattle…” The list seemed endless putting me in a spot of bother and shame.
The other students were also high profile and had clear reasons for doing the Executive MBA. It didn’t surprise me that the Jemba 2006 batch of EMBA had chosen India ahead of other countries for their internship program. To me their decision spoke more about the emergence of India as an economic power (I would hesitate to call her a super power yet!) than their interest in our culture and history, which would have been the case in the early 90s.
So here they were in many-a-times-dubiously-in-the-news Bangalore wanting to make the best out of their week-long stay. When the agenda was set on the day of their reception at the Royal Orchid, it became clear to Tabby (the other guide) and I that Jemba 2006 batch had their tasks cut out - visit a specialized industry (manufacturing, IT, healthcare, hospitality, etc.); study their management patterns; find gaps in the internal communication process; compile the data; analyze and discuss with the company Management; and suggest improvement measures.
It was a rock-and-roll party for four days (the translators and the sutdents may have different opinions on this) starting with banquet at Royal Orchid. Our team would visit a manufacturing unit on the outskirts of Bangalore with the following agenda – meet the company's top management, middle management, and finally, the most important link in the communication chain, the laborers to study their communication process. The sumptuous lunch, sarcastic jokes and bullying apart, it was business as usual from the word go.
After the initial meetings and floor visits, we huddled into a conference hall to review and revise the communication questionnaire. We had three days in all and three employee layers to interview. We set off with a series of meetings with the middle management of the company. What started as a process to first understand and then identify communication gaps, turned into a conundrum when the interviewers and interviewees found themselves well short of being able to adjust to each others’ language and accent. There lies my chance and raison d'etre, I thought. Donning my translator cap I jumped into the ring. Translation is an oxymoron here because the “From” language, the “To” language, and my interpretations were all in English…that too an all too familiar British English. In the end I was happy that my skills were put to best use for the team.
After three thoroughly enjoyable days, it was not easy returning to work. I had become a student and learner; moreover, I had rediscovered the urge to pursue an MBA. As days passed, the sweet memories began to blur, until one morning when a little birdie delivered the following note of thanks taking me back in time and memory:
Hello Prashant,
Thank you for all your help with the focus groups last week. We truly appreciate your assistance and the fact that you took time out from work to be with us. We hope you found the experience interesting and rewarding.
We're now back in the UK after some lengthy delays due to the Mumbai weather.
Please keep in touch.
Thanks,
Belinda, Sonny, Tarun, Will and Charlotte
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Chembra
As kids, my little brother and I would look forward to bed-time stories that dad would tell us every night. One of my favorites is that of how the Mount Everest was humbled by Tensing and Hillary. I would get so carried away that every other day I would force dad to repeat the "tension" story. My persistence may have rubbed off on my brother too because he would chorus in my whines.
Recently, my friends and I scaled Chembra, the tallest peak in Wayanad (Kerala). We had three obstacles to trail before we got started - the fickle weather; warnings about rough terrain made worse by incessant rains; and our own "it's-overwhelming" demon (on second thoughts, there were four, not three hurdles, if I must add blood-starved leeches; oh! Anand, how can I forget the blood shed and bitterness.) It was as though four of us had four different views about the trek. If at all we agreed on one thing, it was photography. Gods Own Country has plenty on offer and Chembra was no exception. But before we could smell the aroma of lush tea plantations en route to the hills, we had to kill the devils within.
We set ourselves milestones - three in all. First, reach the watch tower at the foothill and seek a guide; second, reach the first camp site - a trek of nearly 45 minutes to reach a heart-shaped lake; third, proceed to the peak if the weather is clear.
We were at the foothill of Chembra watching the awesome peak, when Mother Nature sent down a gentle shower to bless our trek. The weather was bountiful and pleasant, but we had read into the warning sooner than later, that heavens may pour their fury on us anytime. We were in a spot - should we go or should we abort. Of what worth is a visit to Chembra if we don’t visit the heart-shaped lake in the lap of nature! Our aunts would tease us to wits end for our cowardly behavior. Filled with surreal enthusiasm, we set out for the watch tower in search of a guide. We agreed to hire a guide even though Shashank is no stranger to Chembra. A seasoned climber aware of the local terrain would be what the doctor prescribed; he will be our best bet in times of danger, be it from snakes, leeches, or forces of nature. Our joy didn't last long because the officers and the only guide among them bluntly refused to join us in the trek. They only raised their eyebrows to check that we were not carrying beverages. Regurgitating the care-for-nature rules, they sternly warned us against using mobile phones when (and if) we reach the peak. Despite our requests (rather groans), they unmindfully continued playing cards.
Recently, my friends and I scaled Chembra, the tallest peak in Wayanad (Kerala). We had three obstacles to trail before we got started - the fickle weather; warnings about rough terrain made worse by incessant rains; and our own "it's-overwhelming" demon (on second thoughts, there were four, not three hurdles, if I must add blood-starved leeches; oh! Anand, how can I forget the blood shed and bitterness.) It was as though four of us had four different views about the trek. If at all we agreed on one thing, it was photography. Gods Own Country has plenty on offer and Chembra was no exception. But before we could smell the aroma of lush tea plantations en route to the hills, we had to kill the devils within.
We set ourselves milestones - three in all. First, reach the watch tower at the foothill and seek a guide; second, reach the first camp site - a trek of nearly 45 minutes to reach a heart-shaped lake; third, proceed to the peak if the weather is clear.
We were at the foothill of Chembra watching the awesome peak, when Mother Nature sent down a gentle shower to bless our trek. The weather was bountiful and pleasant, but we had read into the warning sooner than later, that heavens may pour their fury on us anytime. We were in a spot - should we go or should we abort. Of what worth is a visit to Chembra if we don’t visit the heart-shaped lake in the lap of nature! Our aunts would tease us to wits end for our cowardly behavior. Filled with surreal enthusiasm, we set out for the watch tower in search of a guide. We agreed to hire a guide even though Shashank is no stranger to Chembra. A seasoned climber aware of the local terrain would be what the doctor prescribed; he will be our best bet in times of danger, be it from snakes, leeches, or forces of nature. Our joy didn't last long because the officers and the only guide among them bluntly refused to join us in the trek. They only raised their eyebrows to check that we were not carrying beverages. Regurgitating the care-for-nature rules, they sternly warned us against using mobile phones when (and if) we reach the peak. Despite our requests (rather groans), they unmindfully continued playing cards.
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