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My work interfered

My apologies. I was held up with work. Not my fault. Who doesn`t get held up with work. At last count more people get held up due to work than those due to traffic.

I love it when somebody calls out “T.G.I.F” when I enter office. It is a sweet smelling, melodious word which means “Thank God, It is Friday.” I accept, sometimes, I have to remind them that it is not Friday yet. How do I remind them? “S.H.I.T” is the abbreviation, which means, “Sorry Honey, It is Thursday”.

My Monday fever rises to such levels that on Mondays I walk into the office with a resignation letter. Enough of these 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. jobs, I tell myself, and walk in. But soon the dust settles down and by afternoon…I am ready for another week`s haul.

I once tried setting up a business and went to my Bank manager for advice.

“How do I set up a small business?” I asked him.
“Simple. Buy a big one, and wait.” He replied.

But I didn`t get de-motivated. I walked up to an entrepreneur friend of mine and initiated small talk.

“So how is business?”

“Business is looking up,” he said. I detected some anguish in his tone and probed him further.

“If business is looking up, why are you upset?”

He chided me for not getting the joke. And later clarified that when somebody says that “business is looking up” it means the “business is lying on the floor…flat on its back”.

Ever since, I have decided to quit trying to be an entrepreneur and concentrate on my 9.a.m. to 5 p.m. (this timing is only namesake) job.

I remember having a conversation with a friend of mine who works for a top IT company. We had met up after three years at the Central station in Chennai…and could catch up only for a few minutes.

Me: Hey, where have you been all this while?
Friend: Bangalore.
Me: Working somewhere?
Friend: Yes at [Beep].
Me: That`s really good. How long have you been working for them?
Friend: Ever since they threatened to sack me for non-performance.
Me: How is the work atmosphere?
Friend: It was good till the time they found out I had given 5 years experience, when I actually had only one.
Me: What did you say when they enquired?
Friend: I told them, their advertisement mis-lead people like me by saying they were looking for people with imagination and creativity.
Me: You are intelligent.

That was all we could speak before we realized my friend`s train to Banglore had already taken off.

Talking of pre-employment blunders …recently I saw an advertisement seeking drivers for the top executives in the company. It said:

Drivers Wanted. At least five years of experience. Should be willing to travel.

I wonder if there can be any driver on duty who is not traveling! As an extension of the above advertisement, the day is not far when we see adverts like –

Developers Wanted. At least three years of experience. Should be willing to code!

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Cheating on your wife

Kennedi who writes at www.askenni.com has revealed his two wives. He managed to keep it a secret for eight years…but yesterday his 2nd wife read the post and found out the truth.

As I always say, those that cheat…can`t eat. Today Kennedi has been thrown out of the house…and even as I write he is standing before an idli kadai hoping he hadn`t cheated.

Not his fault. Cheating on wives comes naturally to me(n).

Did you know why a “mistress” is so called? Because she ‘missed` becoming the most preferred wife and thus would spend the rest of her life under undue ‘stress`. Simple.

I was introduced to the concept of cheating at a very young age. I think I was only 14 years of age, when I found out that both my girl friends were cheating on me. This left me scarred for life but I didn`t resort to cheating.

But not all are honest like me. This 30-year-old friend of mine has two wives. One stationed in Anna Nagar – West, Chennai and the other in Anna Nagar – East, Chennai. Somebody had told him that ‘East` and ‘West` never meet. He was lucky till the time both his wives insisted on having him for all meals. Now he eats two breakfasts, two lunches and two dinners.

Unfortunately, it is not just the men who cheat. I have this friend who stays in Bangalore…and who once found his wife in bed with another man. My friend was getting crushed under the weight of his wife and the second man….and had to excuse himself!

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Babies

Rekha and I have suddenly become interested in babies. Perhaps, we don`t make enough noise at home…I stick to my Newsweek and she to her Star Dust. Maybe, we need somebody to trouble the neighbors living downstairs…by dropping the TV remote or the rattle or the plastic car.

I remember, Rekha trying to sell me the idea sometime back. Being a great haggler, she almost got me…till the time I stood up for my rights and said, “hey, we just got married. Let us at least go for a second honeymoon before we get the cabin baggage.”

Eventually, better sense prevailed…and I managed to keep my sleep. But now looks like I have had enough of it. Rekha (and I) want a kid.

I remember once having a conversation with a friend: “Initially, I thought I was trapped in a woman.”

“How and when?” I asked.

“It was till my delivery…after that I was a free man!”

“Cool. Was it a normal delivery?” I enquired.

“No. Caesarian,” he replied.

“So do you still take the window instead of the door?” He didn`t understand my joke.

“I take the door like all of us, but I don`t think my parents liked me that much.”

This explained my friend`s behavior. He would always look out for love… especially among young 19-year-old girls.

“Why do you say your parents didn`t like you?” I asked.

“It was my mother. She developed morning sickness after I was born.”

“Don`t the mothers have morning sickness when they are pregnant?”

“Yes they do. My father was even worse…he gifted me an Iron box to play with in the bath tub. Perhaps, he thought…if the hot metal didn`t get me, the electricity would.”

“That is really sad. Maybe it was not intentional.”

I had to get out of this discussion pretty soon. I stood silently waiting for my friend to say something. He seemed to be thinking hard, for I saw creases on his trousers…oops..on his forehead. After a while he opened up: “I guess everything was for a reason. Had it not been for my parents…I wouldn`t be working in an IT company now.”

“Definitely mate,” I concurred. “Maybe if you take a look at the video of how you were born, you would start appreciating your parents,” I added.

“That`s not a bad idea. But I would any day prefer to watch the video of my conception.”

There was silence for sometime, after which we decided to part ways for the day.

– – – – –

As I said, Rekha and I are now preparing for more responsibilities. On my part, I have started practicing my reaction when I hear the doctor come out and say “Congratulations. It is a healthy child.”

What would I tell Rekha, when I first meet her after delivery? Would this sentence be appreciation enough – “Great show Rekha. I always knew you had it in you!”

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Interview Interludes

Let us accept it. Not all interviews are with the intension of hiring. How many times have we seen Jeetendra or Shahi Kapoor or Shammi Kapoor sitting inside the Manager`s cabin…the phone rings…the manager picks it up…keeps on saying “Yes sir”…turns to the protagonist and says, “I was about to give you the job, but that was a recommendation from a higher up. I am sorry.”

Sometimes I wonder, if there was such a dearth of jobs in the 70s and 80s…where would we hide our face for the situation that prevailed in the late 90s – just before the IT revolution ensured a job for anybody who could speak English or could think straight (logical). Anyways, we are now beyond that…and there are plenty of jobs for the taking. If you didn`t know already there are more vacancies than can be filled for the next few years.

Yet, some of the interviews that happen today are plain whitewash. The culture of ‘referral fee` introduced by the top companies is playing spoilsport. While it helps companies cut headhunting costs to an extent, it doesn`t guarantee that the most deserving candidate is always hired.

Thinking on these lines, I realized that an interviewer can suggest alternative professions to aspiring candidates using the cues provided under the “Other Interests/Hobbies` sub-heading in the candidate`s resume. Confused? Read on.

If you are an interviewer and have already decided not to hire the candidate sitting in front of you…just look at what he/she has mentioned in the “Other Interests/Hobbies` sub-heading of the resume.

If it is ‘Philately`, start off like this ….

You: So you like to collect stamps?
Candidate: Yes sir.
You: Then why do you want to join us? You could be a postman.
Candidate: Postman?
You: Yes. It will be a Government job and you will also be able to pursue your hobby. All you got to do is remove the stamps from the letters before you deliver.

If it is ‘Gardening`, here is the kick-off…

You: Why don`t you become a gardener?
Candidate: Gardener?
You: Your Resume here says that you love gardening.
Candidate: That`s my hobby.
You: We have the right opportunity for you. Our gardener`s slot is vacant – the right amount of passion and work.

If it is ‘Singing`…

You: I heard there is lot of competition in the electric trains.
Candidate: What competition sir?
You: With too many people singing for alms, the not so competent are trying to get into IT.
Candidate: I am not so sure.
You: You would be surprised to know that some of our most promising resources are getting back to singing in the trains.
Candidate: Why so?
You: No…income tax, flexible timings, higher variable component in the package, traveling involved, and to top it all…very little peer pressure.

If it is ‘swimming`…

You: Leonardo Di Caprio and Kate Winslet are looking for you.
Candidate: Why?
You: They need a good swimmer to play dupe to Leonardo Di Caprio.
Candidate: You mean in a movie?
You: Almost. Remember, the Titanic sank in the Atlantic Ocean in 1912?
Candidate: Yes…that`s when I learnt swimming…
You: What? You leant swimming back in 1912?
Candidate: No…no..when I saw Jack go down the water in that movie.
You: Good. Then you must remember that scene where Jack and Rose stand hand-in-hand in front of the ship?
Candidate: Yes.
You: Leonardo Di Caprio is looking for a good swimmer to replace him in the actual remains of the ship, 5000 meters below the sea level. Compensation is good. Interested?

I couldn`t think of any other hobby. Guess…we need to float some creative resume.

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Pawarful Politics

Sharad Pawar is the new BCCI President. How refreshing. The democratic country that we are, anybody can be elected to top posts. Just about anybody. Even Sharad Pawar…

Indian cricket has eventually managed to get out of the frying pan and reach the fire. I am not surprised Sharad Pawar is from Mumbai. The filmi-capital provides all the glory/popularity to handsome people and forces the ugly to get into politics.

All politicians are in it because of the power they get on winning…power-hungry would be the word. Thanks to politics, for most politicians ‘power` is the middle name. For Sharad Pawar…it is the second name. Well, almost.

Some like me blog about politicians…some just don`t care. Perhaps they have read what Chris Clayton once said: Politics is derived from two words – Poly, meaning many and Tics, meaning small blood sucking insects.

Some politicians only win when they oppose somebody in an election. When they stand unopposed…they end up losing. And who can make it big in the political arena? Anybody who is intelligent and corrupt enough to understand it…and dumb enough to think it is important. The rest of us will just sit and crib.

I know a friend who once went to the Parliament and was asked to sign the Guest Book. He wrote- “Half the people in this building are dumb-asses”. The Floor Manager was pretty upset and wouldn`t leave my friend till he changed it to “Half the people in this building are not dumb-asses”.

Everything said and done, I think we should not make a big issue out of this bad reputation of the politicians. As Henry Kissinger said, it is only the 90 per cent of the politicians who are giving the remaining 10 percent a bad name. Or if you still think politics is a big issue, try finding a parking space in T Nagar, Chennai on a Sunday evening…

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What if I were an egg

Sometimes…I wonder what would have happened if I were born in a poultry. Would I have been a human or a chick? What if I had been a chick…not the ‘pretty-chick` kind of chick…but the egg-laying kind.

Guess, I would have just decorated the wire cage in a chicken stall until it was my time to decorate Sunday`s lunch plate.

But what if I were left to be an egg…perhaps…to decorate a Monday morning breakfast plate. Would my brothers and sisters worry about me when I became an omelet? Maybe. Maybe not.

Here is a visual on what might happen if I were born a chick and left to be an egg….

THE BLOGGERS MEET – PART TWO is being withheld by the censors. To be released shortly.  

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Con and Constable

[This post is stupid. Proceed at the cost of being laughed at]

Wonder if the ‘con` in both the words – Con & Constable – is intentional.

Perhaps…William Shakespeare (I say this because the British introduced Constabulary) or whoever coined the word ‘Constable` wanted to pass on a message to us.
Something like the Da Vinci code.

Here are a few things that ‘constable` could mean –

A ‘con` who is ‘stable`
A ‘con` who is forced to be ‘stable`
A ‘con` who can be ‘stable` when his seniors are around
A man/woman hired to stabilize ‘cons`
A stable man/woman who has been hired to con (this would be the case with constables in the CBI & CID & RAW)

[I told you so]

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Madness and Therapy – Part 2

You don`t marry a girl. You marry her relatives.

While some agree that that marriage is the fastest way of transferring funds or bringing in a change of management, I believe that it is the quickest way to insanity.

I recently visited Bangalore for I was invited to a marriage in Rekha`s family. Being a first-hand experience, it was quite a handful. I wouldn`t have gone…had I not watched an episode of ‘Who dares Wins` hosted by Mike Whitney on AXN.

I told Rekha, “Come on…I feel cocky..let us go to the marriage.”

“What do you mean?

“I feel like Mike Whitney of the AXN TV program ‘Who dares Wins`.”

She was quite upset. “You don`t need to feel like an adventurer to come visit my relatives. I never felt like one while visiting your relatives!”

I am censoring the adjectives & adverbs she used to describe my relatives, but I guess you get the drift. Our discussion on the Bangalore trip ended on a sour note…and like in all things that end on a sour note…I lost.

We were to get down at Bangalore city junction and one close relative of hers was to pick us up. We reached Bangalore at 5 a.m. and quickly spotted a man in a white shirt and white trousers with a board that said “Welcome Mrs Rekha”.

I was upset. They hadn`t even mentioned “Mrs Rekha Rajan”. I immediately got into the revenge mode.

“Is your close relative a driver with some hotel?” I asked Rekha.

“Nope.” Her short reply was an indication that she was upset.

It seems the close relative who was to pick us up misplaced his spectacles, and didn`t want to make a spectacle of him by coming to the station, blind.

We were to reach her favorite uncle`s (in Malayalam an uncle is known as ‘ammon`. Wonder why?) house…freshen up…and then visit the marriage hall at 10 a.m..

As luck would have the favorite uncle had participated in the bachelor`s party the previous night and lost the house keys in a fight with one of Rekha`s 14-year old cousin. Don`t ask me how a much-married 45-year-old Indian Navy guy (aren`t all Malayalees in the Navy?) managed to get into the bachelor party and pick up a fight with a 14-year old drunkard in family.

With a car and a driver at hand…and nowhere to go…Rekha called up one of her aunt in Bangalore. The aunt was quite helpful…she gave us the road map to another relative`s house. Just because I couldn`t hide a smirk…I got scolded.

Eventually, the driver in white managed to reach Rekha`s junior aunt`s place. Rekha walked up to the door…and rang the bell.

Her aunt opened a small window next to the main door, and shouted: “we don`t need milk & vegetables today, we are going to a marriage and eating all three times there.”

Rekha looked back at me. She knew I had heard it right…for she noticed a smirk on my face. With few options…she rang the bell again. This time the aunt opened the door and said: “Hey! Rekha it is you.”

“Yes aunt. Can we come in?”

Not able to resist it any longer…her aunt opened the door but stood in the doorway. Under normal circumstances, Rekha would have pushed through the barrier…but she knew I was looking…and she couldn`t bring down her family members.

“Rekha baby, Achutan Nambiar ammon has booked a room for you guys in a hotel in Sheshadripuram. Why don`t you go there?”

As we drove to the hotel …Rekha and I began to hum…

“Where are you going, my pretty maid”?
“I’m going to Bangalore, sir,” she said.

“May I go with you? my pretty maid?”
“You’re kindly welcome, sir,” she said.

“What are your relatives, pretty maid?”
“My relatives are stupid, sir,” she said.

“What is your fortune, my pretty maid?”
“My face is my fortune, sir” she said.

“Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid.”
“That`s too late, sir,” she said.”