tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85084682024-03-23T11:29:21.820-07:00Sudipta's LifeThe chronicles of Sudipta: <br>
the man, the machine, and everything inbetweenSudipta Chatterjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11179666209066615252noreply@blogger.comBlogger316125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508468.post-66555759150743537952021-10-13T17:59:00.006-07:002022-02-28T23:47:25.152-08:00Tips for Getting the Perfect Pujo Pic<p><i>I wrote the following article for <a href="https://pashchimi.org/" target="_blank">Pashchimi</a>'s annual magazine, Anjali. </i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://i1.wp.com/feminisminindia.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/durga-puja-pandals-delhi.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="535" data-original-width="660" height="535" src="https://i1.wp.com/feminisminindia.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/durga-puja-pandals-delhi.jpg" width="660" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy: <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Ffeminisminindia.com%2F2019%2F10%2F04%2Fdurga-puja-myth-worshipping-nari-shakti%2F&psig=AOvVaw0rvRFoqIiYg_0m9LdTzz0Z&ust=1634259441842000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CA0Q3YkBahcKEwiIk46K2cjzAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAw">Feminism India</a></span></span><p></p><br /><br />Hey! Hey you - yes you.. Psst! Listen - I have some good advice for you.<br /><br />What do you mean... how do I know it's good advice? Of course it is… it’s come from a Bengali intellectual middle-aged man. It is the absolute pinnacle of brilliance! Anyway - it’s not about me: it’s about you. Just hear me out. Before we begin, though, I must warn you that there are always two ways you can interpret this advice. If one of them offends you, I meant the other one.<br /><br />Let’s just start by admitting that you are fat. Yep, you heard me: I called you fat more overweight than usual. Now, now… drop that angry frown. Just admit to yourself: it is not the fault of the camera you look like this. The sooner you accept this reality for yourself, the faster you will find happiness. It is not the camera, it is not the dress, it is not the photographer - it is you. Your crash diet hasn’t worked (as the bathroom scales probably scream every day. And no: paleo diets only work for white women who are already size one - it doesn’t work for the বঙ্গললনা-s who have been stuffing themselves with লুচি আর আলুর দম. So instead of fixing things yourself, how can you fix the pic instead? Listen on.<br /><br />First of all, the best way to look pretty in your peer group is to change your peer group. It’s ok to PNPC with your regular folks. But when you are lining up for the picture, find the ugly crowd. Get front and center of the grotesque crowd, and you will be the belle of the ball. Even if you cannot change the whole group, find the ugly duckling in your friends’ circle and hug her like there’s no tomorrow. People see you, people see the beast. It’s the beauty, and the beast. You can thank me later.<br /><br />Next, you can always change the photographer. See, your husband might be carrying the thickest and longest camera lens around, but we all know it’s not the size that matters. Find the handsome new guy walking around. He might be married, but you can always ask him to take a picture - touching the phone is totally cool with his wife. Go for the photo with the slick & shiny Google Pixel phone, or maybe the Samsung if you’re feeling adventurous. What about your trusted iPhone? Well, honey, if it was that good, would you be reading this advice?<br /><br />Here’s one more: make a list of a few compliments to give to other women. Ideally, keep it handy on a note on your phone. As soon as you get home from the Puja right after all the pictures have been taken, start commenting on other women’s photos on Facebook (even if they look vaguely familiar). I’ll get you started on the list: সুন্দরী, কী মিষ্টি লাগছে, gorgeous, etc. Bonus points for using words like “gurl”, “hottz”, or “xoxo”. When you have spread the joy around, it is inevitable that they would also come back and leave pretty much the same comment on your photo. See - it’s simple, right?!<br /><br />Ok, real talk? It is also about the angle and the lighting. As in, how to angle and elbow your way into a group of women who’ve already lined up for a pic. You have to be lightning quick! Find the exact spot where you can be out of the shadows but not in too much of a harsh light. The trick is to find the poor soul who you might consider dispensable, and just eliminate the competition. Get in front of them, step on their toes, make sure their eyes are closed when it’s clicked. And you don’t have to hold in your tummy for the whole thing: just that split second before the photographer says “Ready… set… <click>”, you tuck it in and poke the woman next to you. Like I said above, you get the thin waistline in the pic, and she gets whatever she deserved anyway.<br /><br />What should you avoid, you ask? Why that’s simple - avoid your kids! They demand too much time and attention, and they will inevitably be the reason why you miss the perfect moment. Listen: it’s very simple. Getting the perfect picture means being at the right place at the right time. But since you don’t know when the right time is: you should just hang around at the right place and wait for the right time to come by. I guarantee you, the right place is not near those tiny human beings.<br /><br />Who should you get photographed with? Find the “in” crowd! Yeah, yeah… I know that the so-called celebrities here wouldn’t even get a second look in Kolkata; because as we all know that’s where all the geniuses live. But unfortunately for you, because you have US citizenship, you must enjoy the puja here in the SF bay area. So as unpalatable as it might seem, you have to go up and say nice things to the young upstarts running cultural shows, the self-important nobody who seems to know the whole crowd personally, and then get into their photo albums or at least the same pics as them. If that picture gets 250 likes on Facebook, it is your credit, of course! That is the perfect pujo pic: you’re surrounded by all the beautiful “কালচারাল” people of the bay area, and you have the perfect angle, the perfect saree, and the perfect smile. All because you listened to my advice.<br /><br />You’re welcome.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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You have toiled with me by forwarding innumerable solid facts (#OthersCallItFakeNews), you have fiercely defended the “truthiness” of videos you have received from others, and definitely cursed WhatsApp for not allowing us to forward the same message to more than five people. To that end, and looking at the innumerable people whose opinions we have changed via civil discourse over the internet, I say - well done!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am reminded of the immortal words of Finley Peter Dunne that we read at the very beginning of our curriculum, “A fanatic is a man that does what he thinks the Lord would do if He knew the facts of the case.” The next time someone calls you a fanatic, wear that badge with honor. You do it with the same elan with which we’ve come to embrace being called devouts. We must continue to immediately act on any facts we learn from our beloved WhatsApp. If Coronavirus was cooked in your local city’s Chinatown, if bovine flesh is being illegally traded - we must gather our </span><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: line-through; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">pitchforks</span><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> humble tridents, and rush to the rescue of said victim to mete out punishment to those responsible. In fact, as we’ve practiced so far, remember to go beyond teaching a man to fish - teach them a lesson they are unlikely to forget anytime soon! Never, I repeat, never accept justice from the law while vengeance remains an option for a perceived insult. All hail our team of self-appointed vigilantes! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Remember, you are the victim here. No matter what the lamestream media says, we know that there is a grand conspiracy going on where all the big tech companies, the media empires, the soap operas, and even the cartoons are in on it! We are persecuted for propagating things we just feel in our bones to be true, or for forwarding messages that we just so desperately want to be true. These so-called editors and journalists just give us truth-purveyors a bad name. The educated intelligentsia say that we represent divisive, fundamentalist, orthodox viewpoints, but we are the true global citizens! Our </span><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: line-through; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">fake news</span><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> messages penetrate everywhere and everything from American cities to the villages of rural India. Naysayers may accuse us that our posts stand for violence and hatred, but our true intent is to disburse morsels of peace because we believe in the motto, “might is right”. We alone know what is true, and it all comes from the holiest of </span><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: line-through; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">holey</span><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> holy sources of information, you know the name I am talking about - come on now… “WHATSAPP”!! Always remember our motto, “WhatsApp University: where facts are not facts and truth isn’t true”.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Live reporter’s note: at this point the virtual hall burst into applause and one could see many flying spaghetti monsters atop winged chariots.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Roboto, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But I must warn you, there are those who lurk among us who wish to take us down. These fact-checkers and self-appointed sleuths who wish to dig deep into any story or forwarded message we send to them. I can hear you groan in the audience; believe me - I detest them too! I wish I could tell you what they can gain out of creating nuisance like this - by seeking the truth. Always tell these people that we see proof of our belief everywhere. Ask them to explain how the three-eyed babies are born by eating too much yogurt, and how it is common in Africa to eat elephant poo to gain virile strength and fertility! Ask them, I tell you, if they can explain how ancient civilizations like ours were able to fly to the moon, have trans-cranial brain transplants and achieve so much winning (in science)! They cannot as usual… they’ll scoff at our breadth of knowledge. We, the graduates of WhatsApp university must live and die by our adage by Mark Twain: “Never let the truth come in the way of a good story”.</span></p><br /></span></div><p>-------------</p><p>Image courtesy: <a href="https://twitter.com/LCmediaHouse/status/1248653368014172161" target="_blank">LCMediaHouse</a>.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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If you have seen the play "<a href="http://www.naatak.com/portfolio/noises-off-2016/">Noises Off</a>" by Naatak, then you would understand the rest of this post. I played the character of Tim (or Tanmay) in the play.<br />
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Tanmay's confession: as narrated to Ruku<br />
<i>(Ruku's comment: Tanmay is a sweetheart)</i><br />
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I would like to begin by apologizing to everyone who came to watch the play. The delay was NOT due to Circumcision. I repeat, it was NOT due to Circumcision. I was merely reading from the page that I was handed and Fareed was the one who gave me the wrong word (I'll kill you). I would also like to blame Poppy for writing complicated English words like "circumstances". Clearly her pregnancy has put her vocabulary engine into overdrive.<br />
<i>(Ruku's comment: Sorry? Did you just say that Poppy is having a baby?)</i><br />
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Speaking of pregnancies, Loy, you bastard! <i>(Ruku's comment: Loy, you bastard!)</i> Even though Draupadi had filed for her third divorce while she was in the middle of "Draupadi ke Kesh", Loy managed to dip his fingers into that pie as well. I am told that the tabloids in Mumbai cannot quite decide if casting a pregnant-with-twins Draupadi is a sign of progressive times or whether the rumors of a shortage of actresses in Bollywood is real.<br />
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Ruku, dear, I am glad to see that your contact lenses are working and you can hear me properly. I remember Loy moaning to me "वैसे ही मै बड़ा परेशान director हूँ... producer कहता है पैसे नहीं दूंगा, hero कहता है dates available नहीं है, और heroine कहती है के पुरे कपड़े पहनूंगी". Thankfully he found you after that - God bless you. However, since the two of you drove off to Lonavala during the weekend when Loy was supposed to be giving me instructions about the set, I don't take blame for the door handle that broke off during the last show.<br />
<i>(Ruku's comment: Serves you right, Loy, that you explained the concept of "Casting Couch" to me in Lonavala; and got your share of "Casting Ouch" one month into the show. God bless that cactus!)</i><br />
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<i>(Ruku's additional comment: Loy, you bastard!)</i><br />
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Gaurav, it is only fair that Fareed and Dolly went up to Dolly's room for some tea. You don't have your temper under control and have been banging your head, jumping off stairs and... "you know!". A little cutting chai never hurt anybody. Dolly might be kind of <strike>fat</strike> old for you, but you need to draw a line somewhere. I know Brinda gave you a box of crayons - you should consider that and a course of Art of Living. At least I get to catch some sleep in those sessions when the teacher thinks I am meditating.<br />
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Finally, Sailesh! At this point of time I am even afraid to ask about his whereabouts. Last I heard, he had gone in search of a 3-play-pass to Naatak's 2016 shows: Mr. India and the Carte Blanche. You should also get them <i>(Ruku's comment: Who, me?)</i>. Yes, you too - since you are reading this and know what I mean. You never know - Sailesh might be <strike>sitting</strike> sleeping next to you and you'll get to laugh some more.</div>
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The earliest memory I have of him is from one evening in our old home. We had to collect potable water from a nearby tap in the township, since the well in our yard wasn't always so clean. I had just returned from the playground, and had mentioned on the way back as I hung on to his hand that I was thirsty. He had gone out right afterwards to fetch water with a bucket in hand. In the dark summer evening when the electricity was out, I saw him entering through the door with a towel wrapped around his waist, hauling a solid iron bucket of water and ignoring the sweltering stillness of the humid evening. I was probably two or three years old at the moment. I walked up to him and said, "Baba, I am very thirsty". That seemed to put a special speed into his step. He nodded his head and assured me, "Right away"; filled water into a large filter jug and poured out a glass for me.<br />
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That sort of served as the model he set as a human being. My mom would say, "I never have to remind him to bring in some groceries or if something needs to get done. I just have to tell him once". As I look back in time, I can see the face of my 32-35 year old father who had just been married a few years back, raising a family and carving out his own corner of the world. He tried doing so by making sure that the people around him could rely on him. And he earned their trust through his deeds. If he told you that he was going to be meet you somewhere at 8 pm, you could be certain that he will be there at 8 pm. His wrist watch was always on time: never a few minutes "fast". He used to be a referee/umpire on official football and cricket games, a time keeper in intra-steel plant athletic events and the treasurer of his club. In our township around a steel plant where everyone knew everyone else, his reputation was an untarnished gold standard.<br />
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I would often accompany him during evenings when he would go for his "<i>adda</i>" with his friends and colleagues. As a small boy, I would be standing in the front of his scooter while he drove from home to this <i>adda</i> and back. I loved pressing the button that beeped the horn from the scooter. I actually looked forward to any herd of cows that would cross our path - then I would gleefully keep pressing it until he found a clear way out of the jam. He taught me that I shouldn't be blaring the horn when we drove through small gullies with residences on either side: it was okay to do so on the wide road. And then at the <i>adda</i>, I quickly picked up the phrase "হরি, দুটো চা দিয়ে যা এখানে" ("Hari, please serve us two cups of tea here"). Whenever people asked what my dad did when he went to this <i>adda</i>, to everyone's delight, I would imitate his deep voice as best as I could and tell them that's what he did at there. Oh, and one of the rituals of my accompanying him to the <i>adda</i> was also a nice fresh rasgulla from the shop when we were about to head back home. I remember the Banyan tree and the cemented altar around its trunk where they would sit while I played and ran around everywhere. I remember the strong yellow street lights that would illuminate the whole area. I also remember the bakery nearby where we would sometimes stop on the way home to pick up a baguette or a fresh raisin bread.<br />
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These are fond memories, and there are many more. I want to continue writing more of these posts about him while I can still recall some of them. Just because a person is gone from the earth shouldn't mean his memories are to be erased. Perhaps one day when I am old and my own memory fails, I would reminisce and relive my childhood through these posts. Happy birthday, Father - you would have been 65 today!</div>
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Dear cousins, colleagues, and ex-classmates who want to send me "forward"s - please don't ask for my Whatsapp number. We are already friends on Facebook - let's keep talking there. I will avoid giving you my number at all costs, even sometimes by breaking down lines of communication.<br />
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Let me explain why. You see, every morning when I wake up due to a "ding" notification from Facebook, and I open my messages to find this, I am not very pleased.<span id="goog_1643206748"></span><br />
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Thank you for wishing me a wonderful day. I hope you have one too. But poor grammar, generous number of periods and random capitalization of letters are not the way to make my morning any better. Things like this make me want to throw up!!</div>
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My heart bleeds and my brain farts every time I see things like this. You need relations? Try Tindr, Shaadi.com or some such thing! Puhleeaz don't bug me for relationships - I have my share already!</div>
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And congratulations, by the way, on discovering the concept of memes. Oh you don't know what memes are? Well, when you put text or words on images and together they make memes. I know, I know - the wonders of the internet, right?</div>
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I keep Whatsapp for more realtime conversations. I am pretty sure, if you get hold of that number, you will start sending "forwards". Juvenile jokes, fancy pictures of celebrities next to things they never said make you appear even more dimwitted than you already are. Please spare yourself the embarrassment of being told "no" straight in your face, and don't ask for my Whatsapp number.</div>
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If you grew up in a suburb and played cricket or any game within the neighborhood, then you must be aware of the monster. I speak, of course, of the fat neighborhood aunty or the scowling old uncle who will threaten and curse you to eternal damnation if the cricket ball ever fell in their garden patch. You remember, of course, that the garden was not a Mughal garden. Or an extensive farm of epic proportions. It was, in fact, just a small 6-foot by 6-foot patch of land, neatly divided into four little squares. How on earth someone would cram so many plants into that space was a wonder by itself. My friends would tell me horror stories of this aunty who cuts up tennis balls in front of the children, just to make them realize that they should take the game elsewhere. Or that crazy half-naked uncle who caught hold of little Chintu sneaking in to get the ball, and held him hostage for an hour (even threatened to call the police). Yeah - it was ugly.<br />
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As a grown up person (at least I'd like to think so), there are a few realizations I have had. I am going to draw the comparison between the only two countries where I have lived long enough to observe life styles and culture - the USA and India. So then first of all, why did this happen? Why is this such a common, shared experience? Two concepts: population density and urban planning.<br />
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Think of population density thus: it is not just the raw and absolute number of people who live in a country, but the number of people per square kilometer in every major metropolitan area + the suburbs. When I grew up, just the sheer number of kids competing for a tiny fraction of land or a park was so huge - no wonder cricket balls end up in gardens and other such places. I don't think the situation has improved much today. In the <b>suburbs</b> of the USA where I live, I see almost empty park benches, enough number of playgrounds and open establishments where a small team of kids and their parents can spend a weekend afternoon enjoying the sunshine and not worry about cricket (or baseball) balls ending up in people's gardens.<br />
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Also, a lot of suburbs in the USA are much better planned. Someone thought of reserving an area for parks for kids, what the traffic to/from this park would look like, where people would park their cars and where the toilets should be. I have lived in planned towns and cities in India, as well as places where the city's routes can only be described as chaos. Hands down, the more planned a city was, the lesser the number of such cricket ball vs. garden troll conflicts arose. If there is a single spot at the end of some road where kids can play, then that is where kids will be. If your garden happens to be right next to that end of the road, then it is inevitable that the cricket ball will land in your garden!<br />
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Finally, let's come to the title of this blog post: "The other side of the fence". You would have noticed that I have associated certain words and phrases with the house and garden owners: monster; fat aunty; scowling old uncle; horror story; half-naked uncle who held a little kid hostage. This is pure evil, right? Well, now that I have a house and a garden of my own, I don't want to think of myself as an evil person. However, I do see why a ball that lands in the middle of a garden patch can trigger a fight-or-flight response. You see, the plants are as good as one's children: I nurture them, watch them grow, care for them. It is very cruel to imagine that a cricket ball just happened to land in my little corner of the world and smashed through some plants in 3 seconds what took me 3 months to grow.<br />
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So what is the solution to the problem? How would the kids and garden owners coexist? The answer is empathy. The kids don't think twice about hitting a ball into the garden because they don't understand the feeling. One of the good things we were taught in my boarding school was to care of a plant on our own: one plant dedicated to and fully cared for one student. Invite those kids for some lemonade or Glucon-D one day. Give any three of them the responsibility to look after a plant. Tell them that they are in charge of the sapling. Watch the kids as they come in religiously, every day, to water that plant and take pictures and show it to their friends. Then one day when the same kid or his team is batting, and the ball comes tantalizingly short of length on the leg side, watch how the kid will check his gut instinct and avoid hitting the plant he is in charge of. You would save your patch of the garden, and the kid would have learned a little bit of compassion, empathy and self control. He would join you on the other side of the fence.</div>
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When I was growing up, Parker pens were a big deal. Those special pens were expensive and given as gifts on special occasions. Think of your sacred thread ceremony (পৈতে), the birthday where you also happened to top your class final exams, or the special uncle who visited after five years and had to prove that he was well off - that is when you received one.<br />
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Almost as a rule, we would stash those away. Possibly to give away as gifts to other kids on special occasions, or to be opened when the "time was right". I revered these pens, of course, and any time I heard of a professor or someone who wrote with one of those, it immediately elevated them into a haloed status for me. It either symbolized wealth, or erudition, or both.<br />
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On that day, we were about to go to a sacred thread ceremony of some social acquaintance. I was tasked with finding a good pen set from our cupboard where these were stored. I started going through these one by one. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept of a “pen-set”, it was usually a couple of pens in a fancy box. One of those would be a fountain pen, and another would be a ball-point pen. Almost as a rule, each of the ball-point pens I went through that day had run dry. No amount of scribbling on white paper, shaking, rubbing hands around the refill tube or other home remedies could help. Some of these casualties of neglect also included Parker pens. I remember my mother reminiscing sadly, that at least a couple of them were from the time that she received her PhD. They had run dry - simply because of disuse. We eventually did find a fresh set of Parker pens to gift to the boy. I got my hands on a set that was about to get thrown but we dramatically revived it using the aforementioned techniques. I started writing using a “Parker pen” from that day.<br />
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It became, of course, the neighbor’s envy & owner’s pride. My friends would remark about the fact that I was now a high roller (no pun intended), but they soon got used to the fact. I ended up using a lot of the expensive pens that were gathering dust at home, and then when the supply of these costly pens eventually ran out, I started using the old ones again. It was an inconsequential transition, and I could feel the difference between an ordinary pen and the branded one. It did not make me desperate enough to go and start buying Parker pens, but I would still start writing with one when I got one of those as a gift, and then downgrade again.<br />
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Parker pens are still a big deal. They are stylish, expensive, and I am sure they are great to write with. (<a href="http://www.parkerpen.com/en-US/shop-online">www.parkerpen.com/en-US/shop-online</a>) But it has been a long time since anyone gifted one to me, and I might just write with one if I get my hands on them. But the incident from that day is etched in my mind. I believe the time to upgrade is now. Go find your stash of things for “the special day”. That day is today.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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A lot of my friends keep asking me for a referral in my company. However, the chances of getting hired depends a lot on not just their skills or their resume, but also on how many people the resume reaches, even if the job requirements are remotely related. While people often talk about going through your connections and network to get the best referrals and positions, you have to make the process of forwarding your resume as smooth as possible.</div>
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The purpose of this post is two-fold. The first is that I cannot repeat this to everyone who sends me a resume. Secondly (and more importantly), the topic is delicate for anyone who really wants a job, but I cannot tell them that you are screwing your own chances by just sending a resume. Consider this anonymous feedback for public good.<br />
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1. Make a better resume</h3>
As oft-repeated as this is, there cannot be a simpler tip to implement. Please take a look at Gayle's resume tips here: <a href="http://www.careercup.com/resume">http://www.careercup.com/resume</a>. No objectives, accomplishment oriented short bullet points, with as much useful numerical data as possible. Make it easy for the recruiter to read it - force the eyes to go to the points you want. Also, if I keep forwarding bloated undecipherable resumes to people (even to my personal connections), I lose my reputation. Please help me send at least professional resumes forward.<br />
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<h3>
2. A meaningful email = a good cover letter</h3>
Most corporate referral systems have a section where I can make a comment about a candidate who I am referring for a position. Usually, I have to write down how far do I know you personally, why you'll be a good fit, etc. Please make my job easier, by providing some text in your email itself that I can literally copy-paste, or put in with minimal edits.<br />
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3. Do not spray and pray</h3>
The worst mistake you can do when you are sending your resume is to declare, "Hey dude can you forward this resume for any internal postings?". No, I cannot. Because I don't have time to go through your resume, then do a keyword search, filter by location, external requirements, etc. and then write your cover letter for you and then apply. Really - I don't. Instead, do your homework. Find out from the corporate job listing website <u>exactly</u> which position(s) you are looking for. And then send the requisition numbers or the link to the position, etc. in your email. See, now you just made my life easier - referring you will be just a few clicks away.<br />
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4. Follow up, but don't nag</h3>
It is okay to reach out after a week and check whether there has been any progress. It serves two purposes. First, if I have really forgotten about the resume (not me, those other people), I can send it at that time. Or, if there is an email from the hiring manager asking for more information about you, I can take the action. Second, if I run into the hiring manager or the recruiter socially somewhere, I might put in a good word about you or just follow up - it brings your resume to the top of the pile.<br />
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5. Miscellaneous</h3>
Mention what kind of attachment you are sending (and don't forget the attachment). If you don't mention it and I find that there is a suspicious attachment, I will probably mark it as spam. Also, PDF resumes are preferred (since some recruiters have the bad habit of twisting your resume to "enhance" experience for a position), and you also don't me to suddenly copy and paste your resume format for my own. Finally, make sure you are not asking for a favor beyond the level or acquaintance between the two of us. If you are my close friend, I'll dig through the corporate job postings on my own and apply on your behalf to a hundred positions in addition to just the one you sent. However, if you are a casual acquaintance I met at a party, don't ask me to apply to all available Product Manager positions in your email. Ain't gonna happen.<br />
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So, what would a good email look like? Like this:<br />
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<blockquote>
Hi Sudipta, </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Hope you are doing good. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I was going through the job listings on XYZ and noticed this post that really caught my eye: http://www.xyz.com/jobs/posting?id=98765, for a Senior Solutions Engineer. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I think I would be a great fit for the position. I have worked with clients before (such as A11 and B22), and have a good knowledge of the business ecosystem of the retail vertical. I noticed that the job role requires Python and MySQL experience, and I have been using those technologies for quite a while now. In addition, looking at the general trend of job postings and news articles of XYZ, it seems you are looking for people who can help move the data to a consolidated data warehousing system. I would be the perfect candidate for the job, since I have been a program manager in our internal data warehousing team for quite a while. </blockquote>
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Attached is my PDF resume - please forward it to the relevant people and let me know if you need more information. </blockquote>
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Cheers,<br />
Applicant</blockquote>
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It feels strange to be writing this, but perhaps every man on earth should say this at least once in their lifetime. To all the women in the world, "Thank you"!<div>
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Thank you for sticking around with us, thank you for keeping us sane and for keeping us from killing each other. One fine morning, if a spaceship appeared on the horizon and you had the option of leaving all men behind for even a day, I am certain we'll probably go extinct as a species. If you decide to stick around, however, it will be your greatness, and just sheer dumb luck on our part.</div>
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I stand horrified at all of the things that my brethren have meted out to you over the years. Incidents that happen day in and day out that are no less than medieval torture. The ones we get to know are few: be it the rape of the young student in Delhi past December, or the cut up body of the rape victim that was recently returned in Bengal. What were the last few hours like, of those victims who had so much to see and enjoy in the world? Even then, the ones we do not get to know every day are equally devastating. Be it the little brush of skin on a crowded bus, or the domestic violence and beatings that are so common the media hardly ever reports it. I can only think about how they rob you of your dignity, how the value of one's self and one's life is sliced away inch by inch every single time you have to ignore and walk steadily past wolf-whistles and taunts. I feel sad that I can only imagine what it must feel like, to possess your beauty, your vivacity and life; and yet live under the constant threat of rape and violence every time you have to cross a dimly lit street. I shudder to think what it means, and feel incoherent rage at the perpetrators of these acts.</div>
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Therefore, I wish to thank you. Thank you for sticking around and still being with us. For nurturing us and cheering us up either as mothers, sisters, friends or wives. And most importantly, for not taking that spaceship and leaving us if the time comes. Like I said, it is just sheer dumb luck on our part that we receive such undeserved love and compassion from you.</div>
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<b>Disclaimer:</b> I don't work for Yahoo, nor should the following be taken up as a commentary about my company's work-from-home policies. These are just my opinion about working remotely in general.<br />
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<b>TL;DR</b>: If you want to stop work-from-home policies, let there be absolutely no work done after 5 pm. No late night email exchanges, no after-hours conference calls, etc.</div>
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The latest brouhaha over Yahoo's no-work-from-home policy has its fair share of support as well as opponents. Working mothers are up in arms against this policy, and so are some parents who don't want to miss their kids' school plays or just stay at home one day to attend to their sick child. But as some people admit, the policy is abused more often that not. You can get your afternoon siesta, run errands, and literally run a side job/startup while putting in minimal effort for the stuff that you actually get paid for.<br />
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I would personally prefer a little more flexible policy. This makes sense: No more remote working - the whole team should regularly meet at the office and get their work done. But you have to leave room for exceptions. Let's not make it airtight and set in stone that you absolutely cannot work from home. If you want to discourage the abuse, maybe you can make the work-from-home policy a little more stringent. Maybe you need to inform your manager's manager if you are going to be working from home for the day, not just your immediate team. Maybe you can introduce a policy where a person can work from home ten days each year, similar to paid leave of fifteen days (or whatever your company has) per year. Treat people a little more maturely - let someone exercise rational control over what extent a company policy needs to be enforced.</div>
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Now, if you do have to enforce the policy of absolutely no working from home, then let's mean it. I admit - I would prefer to leave from work at 5 or 6 pm, and literally leave from work. Let there be a literal no-work-from-home policy. I don't want you or anybody up my managerial food chain to send me an email after 5 pm and expect a reply. You want 8 hours of my time? You have it. But don't expect me to "get work done", i.e. use my "meeting-free" time at home to finish that review document or finish up the code for the day. It will have to wait until 8 am the next morning. Seriously, Ms Mayer, I don't want to work from home!</div>
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I watched Skyfall (quite) a few days back. Yes, the James Bond movie that came on the 50th year anniversary. Daniel Craig is the new Bond, following an illustrious list of people from Sean Connery to Pierce Brosnan. Like many others, I certainly believe that Daniel Craig's portrayal of James Bond has been very novel - his scriptwriters and directors have presented a rare look into the "real" world of the spy. The rosiness of the life has been removed, and a much more brutal (and realistic) character has been developed. It has been a bold, a necessary and a successful transition.<br />
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Before we talk of transitions, though, we must establish what was status quo. James Bond represented much more than a good action movie to me, and I believe to many many young boys growing up like me. The essential thrill of a movie like James Bond is that they represent the ultimate fantasy life within the bounds of reality as we know it. Allow me to explain the paradox. You see, when you watch a superhero movie, the distance from reality is a foregone conclusion - I know that there is no man of steel, or a person who can generate spider-strings on the fly from their wrists. Because we don't know of them. But we do know of the spies, we know of RAW agents who can cross the Himalayas unaided and barefoot, or the US Navy Seals who can dive in and out of a 30-foot pool with their hands and legs tied behind their back. You see, the glitz, the action, the tense situations and the incredible risks that people take to get out of impossible situations - all of these made boys like me dream a little bigger. Whether it was the suave charm or the cool gadgetry, the fast cars or the gorgeous women, there was always an element of something I wanted or lacked, but that which James Bond possessed almost naturally.<br />
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Pierce Brosnan defined James Bond for me. Growing up, I saw that he had the pithy comeback lines, the boyish charm, and most importantly the confident swagger that can only come if you know you are the cool dude in town. For all the wonderful things that people rave about Sean Connery or Roger Moore, Pierce Brosnan was the James Bond I grew up with, and his character portrayal was the one I idolized when I watched re-runs of the same movies again and again.<br />
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Enter Daniel Craig. Suddenly the gadgetry, the million exploding pens and remote controlled cars are gone. Instead, you have a spy chasing an assassin across really dangerous rooftops and overhanging construction cranes. It is difficult to explain, but the opening action sequence of Casino Royale made me shiver and brought the reality of the action so much closer, than the events of Pierce Brosnan diving off a cliff on a motorcycle trying to get on a crashing aeroplane. The former just seemed so much more real and dangerous.<br />
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I think I too have grown up alongside James Bond. My teenage and early twenties self looked forward to the James Bond who had the most hilarious, double-entendre lines. But my present self was ready to look at the bare nature of the line of duty. The shattered, desperate man out for a revenge, or the man who retreats away from a more powerful enemy just to engage in a fight where he stands a slightly better chance against certain death. I have been able to appreciate the James Bond in Skyfall a lot better than I would have ten years ago. The metamorphosis of the movie franchise has been significantly a parallel development of my own personality and outlook on life.<br />
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Finally, about the movie itself. I think it was a fitting way to say goodbye to Judi Dench and her character as M, and to introduce the new M with Ralph Fiennes, and Naomi Harris as Moneypenny. The significance of James Bond ultimately bringing M to where his parents are buried and his knife in the back of Javier Bardem in the last scene have all meanings beyond the movie just being another Bond flick. I would call the movie an inception - a rebirth of a franchise that holds a lot of promise for the future. I really look forward to the next movie; until then "hold your breath and count to ten". Enjoy the beautiful (and Oscar-winning) title track of Skyfall:<br />
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The next sentence is going to be extremely politically incorrect, in the view of a few people. Some, on the other hand, would be vigorously nodding their heads in agreement. The rest of the post after <i>the</i> sentence is dedicated to those who will be nodding their heads.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
In India, and in most of the Western world, the nation of Pakistan is generally regarded as a hotbed for fostering terrorists, giving them shelter, etc. </blockquote>
But in the wake of the recent bomb blast that killed so many people (yet again), I am reminded of this TED talk: we must be getting a single sided story!<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" scrolling="no" src="http://embed.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
So if you look at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_terrorist_incidents_in_Pakistan_since_2001">List of terrorist incidents in Pakistan since 2001</a>, it is horrifying that a nation of 187 million people would have over 35,000 deaths just from terrorist attacks in 10 years. Imagine that - thirty five thousand people dead, just due to terrorist attacks, in a decade!<br />
<br />
Now, don't come to me with stats from other nations, especially India. We rank 4th on the <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=5&cad=rja&ved=0CFEQFjAE&url=http%3A%2F%2Ffilipspagnoli.wordpress.com%2Fstats-on-human-rights%2Fstatistics-on-war-conflict%2Fstatistics-on-terrorism%2F&ei=n7HyUNvGG4a6iwKt3oCwDw&usg=AFQjCNHzBdgqGg2Jn5lE0DsiMruT98VR2g&bvm=bv.1357700187,d.cGE">Global Terrorism Index</a> and <a href="http://in.reuters.com/article/2012/12/04/security-attacks-pakistan-india-terror-idINDEE8B301Z20121204">India</a> is among the most affected nations. I know, we have a problem. My point is, the enemy number one for us is also under attack, but I don't quite understand why. Given our narrative, all of them should be plotting the downfall of India. When would they have time to kill their own countrymen?<br />
<br />
For those of you branding me a traitor as you read this story, let me clarify a few things. I fully and sincerely believe that their army has the mo****-fu****s who <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/india/9789181/Indian-soldier-beheaded-by-Pakistan-troops-as-Kashmir-dispute-escalates.html">killed and beheaded</a> two of my countrymen (among the million other things they do every day, as part of their daily routine). I know for a fact, that the Pakistani army thinks it can get cheap points by provoking the Indians whenever they can.<br />
<br />
But, and here is the big B-U-T: "What do we not know about the ground realities in Pakistan?" Who kills the innocent people, <u>and</u> kills Indian soldiers? Are they the same people? If not, (and as I am sure they are aware of each others existence), what is the common goal binding them? What are we missing as part of our own single story?</div>
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"90% of all quotes on the internet are made up" - Abraham Lincoln.<br />
<br />
I cannot tell you the number of times I have had to leave that statement as a comment on Facebook. Consider this Facebook "forward", if you will:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0gSxxOGVIVYBALyppIAhuWhlPDINBkNw3owobjED1RAhD5sL8PN5_qaIpzNEjiJdhC9D4WAZDb_bYgmx_IKu9orvpxhAPL0to6WmbLRP12MPY5ZIftGcY-RhKzSB0786XrVo/s1600/drkalam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0gSxxOGVIVYBALyppIAhuWhlPDINBkNw3owobjED1RAhD5sL8PN5_qaIpzNEjiJdhC9D4WAZDb_bYgmx_IKu9orvpxhAPL0to6WmbLRP12MPY5ZIftGcY-RhKzSB0786XrVo/s400/drkalam.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It is attributed to Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam because it suits the narrative that my friend wants to believe in. A lot of you will probably doubt if Dr. Kalam ever said that. I suspect (actually, fervently hope) that my friend who posted this also had a flicker of doubt the source. But he went ahead and posted it anyway.<br />
<br />
That is what scares me the most. People are willing to "forward" anything that tickles their funny bone. I have grumbled about <a href="http://sudiptachatterjee.blogspot.com/2009/01/forward-me-please.html">silly email forwards</a> before. But Facebook takes it to a whole new level. This time, you don't even need to fill out the "To:" field. You can just "share" it on your timeline and people will read it. I am surprised at the incredible gullibility of people, and sometimes just feel ashamed that they are my friends. How stupid can you be, if you have really commented "Jump" on this one:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVktpotJRfHl9n2yMIVBpyGEr1e8ZuuTwAqbJVWDM39mi_byXodmeI4JiYxasQSqVGeknfqt_EOvQ3Tz3bnVC4-MAYZrPq6CopYVqjtA_0x-F-5TkP1X7EyoHDcIpvx3TgDb3N/s1600/comment_jump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVktpotJRfHl9n2yMIVBpyGEr1e8ZuuTwAqbJVWDM39mi_byXodmeI4JiYxasQSqVGeknfqt_EOvQ3Tz3bnVC4-MAYZrPq6CopYVqjtA_0x-F-5TkP1X7EyoHDcIpvx3TgDb3N/s400/comment_jump.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Look at that - 69,094 comments out of which I bet 69,000 are "Jump". About 700 people thought this was worth sharing on their Wall, and about ten times that number actually like this photo+caption.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There will always be lone crusaders like me, perhaps, demanding proof of outlandish claims of snake oils and hot air. There are some, like me, who actually visit the source of a rumor to verify authenticity. But there will always be ten times that number who will forwarding and posting these things without question. I wish my friends were smart enough to not belong to those who forward. Alas, I sometimes feel outnumbered ten-to-one, and the battles are sometimes just not worth fighting. When it is Dr. Kalam endorsing mass bunks, that is still acceptable. But when you stop verifying your facts, then you'll also begin to believe harmful rumors and spread the word around without realizing what you are doing - don't you remember Dr. Kalam asking all OBCs to leave the country?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
If you are reading this post and have been guilty of the above forwards even once, please stop doing that. You are diluting your own brand value. I usually think thrice before believing anything you post. And you know what, Google is your friend! If in doubt (even the slightest), please check before posting. When you post something, you endorse it (no really, you do!!). Find what the word "endorse" means. Actually, on this blog, simply double-clicking any word will do - go ahead, seriously, try it! </div>
<br />
And please - Dr. Kalam did not use the word "coz" or say anything of that nature. Swami Vivekananda did not ask you to give up meat. And one "Like" on a picture of an ailing baby will not make Facebook donate a dollar to the kid's parents. Grow some wits, please!</div>
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Like a soul lost without its body, I drift across the wide seas. I know not, when this shall end. But whoever said "distance makes the heart grow fonder", lied. It does not. Distance tears the heart apart. It makes you roam around in helpless rage, in a frustration of inexplicable sadness. I looked up at the flights leaving the airport runway each evening... the engines gunning, the sound of the airplane cutting through air, the soft dimming of the roar as soon as the plane lifts off, and then you can see the flight soaring into the distance, hurtling through thin air towards the one you love.<br />
<br />
It is a horrible experience, to wake up each morning into an unfamiliar room. Then the memory comes rushing back to me. Why am I here? What am I doing? How will this day turn out? Will I be able to go back today? It is a weird feeling to be in - a day when you look forward to the weekdays, since the rest of the world works on these days. You live in a society, remember? Others need to cooperate with you - you cannot be a lone wolf!<br />
<br />
But how will the moment be? Will it be as sweet as the dreams where I see my ticket home in hand? Or will it be like the horrible cold sweat I break into when I wake up from the dream? Each time, in the wee hours of the morning, the blanket/quilt over me shifts and a whiff of cold air shifts in. In my dreams at that time, I have my ticket home in hand, smiling, giving away chocolates.... and then the rude shock of waking up reminds me that it isn't there - the ticket home is simply not there yet.<br />
<br />
The moments are lost in time. Imagining, how this could have been. Imagining, what I would do when the ticket finally arrives. Each moment spent here is one more moment away from the one I love. The moment that is painful, slipping away like water through the cracks of my fingers... I simply cannot hold on to it. Bring back, o bring back... bring back my moment to me.</div>
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<br />
A very interesting research study once came out of Stanford University, led by Prof Walter Mischel. It was called the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanford_marshmallow_experiment">Marshmallow test</a>. They put four-year-old kids in a small room, put a small toffee in front of them and gave them two choices. If the child could wait for 10 mins, he/she will get two chocolates. If, however, the kid decided to just eat the candy right there and not eat it, that would be the end of the experiment... no more extra chocolates for the kids. Watch the video below of how some kids struggled against the inner urge and temptation :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/amsqeYOk--w?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
Later on, they kept track of what happened to each of these children... how did they do when they grew up? As it turns out, the children who were able to hold off that temptation successfully and got two chocolates as the reward did extremely well in life. The ones who were the quickest to jump the gun were also the ones who ended up in gangs, became small-time crooks, etc.<br />
<br />
This concept of "holding off" or working hard in an effort to win a bigger reward is called "delayed gratification": you skip the immediate opportunity of getting something and instead wait for the bigger prize. People who are successful in cultivating this habit also do not default on their loan payments, they don't overspend (generally), can work hard before their exams and not get out to see that India-Pakistan cricket match.<br />
<br />
Well, all that sounds good. What does it have to do with the Indian lunch menu, again? Think about it: we do delay the prize ourselves! You start off with the bitter part: karela. Then the plain old bland dishes come in: the ones you eat every day. This counts as dal, some rice, some sabzi (vegetables). But then you move on to the more "interesting" dishes. Your chicken curry, your spicy fish... you get the idea. And then, of course, comes everyone's favourite part: the dessert. Let me not name too many desserts here: you might just feel like having one :)<br />
<br />
Even the cultural pressure is there on almost everyone to follow the courses in order. If you "jump the gun", the first time might be passed over as a childish aberration, but then people really look down upon you as uncivilized, etc.<br />
<br />
So does this mean, if you try the candy experiment on your own kid and he picks up the chocolate within 10 seconds he is doomed to fail in life? No sir, he isn't. Look at the 3rd paragraph above where I slipped in the phrase "successful in cultivating this habit". Yes, this is a habit, and it can be successfully cultivated. The children from the experiment who grabbed the chocolate early were taught not to do that, and the next time they were able to successfully hold off the temptation. As it turned out, they too were able to succeed in life. Delayed gratification can indeed be practiced, reinforced and made into a habit.<br />
<br />
So what does this mean for your lunch menu? Just hold on a little longer, braveheart! The dessert is yet to come :)</div>
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It all began when a professor at my (undergraduate) college showed up in our lab and asked, "So who here is the guy who knows everything about computers?".<br />
<br />
Admittedly, such people have never existed. However, for all practical purposes, when a professor in his fifties comes and asks the system administrator of the college about "computers", you can be reasonably sure that the sys admin has the skills to do/fix whatever the professor is looking for. The system administrator in this case being yours truly, and the professor being someone not from Computer Sciences (no offence!).<br />
<br />
Like any good "computer-person", I dutifully asked, "What do you need? I am the system administrator"<br />
<br />
He literally looked me up and down, and said, "No, who is the person here who knows everything here? The person who takes care of all this?". He was pointing at all the 100+ computers around the room.<br />
<br />
Had it been the Sudipta of today, I would have deferred to another official in the room, possibly my senior and let him handle the case. But it was the Sudipta of nine or ten years ago. And it became a matter of nerd ego for me. I took it as a challenge to go and fix whatever it was.<br />
<br />
"I'll do it", I said - "I take care of all these".<br />
<br />
He agreed, finally. He told me that it was a new computer and it had some "hyper-threading technology". It was the latest and greatest but he was not being able to install a particular program. He said he will pick me up in the evening from the lab. After college was over for the day, he showed up on time. I rode pillion on his scooter and reached his home. On the way, he explained that although the sales guy had told him about the hyper-threading technology which was the latest and greatest thing in the current computer market, this particular program was not getting installed.<br />
<br />
I reached his home. He switched on his machine with hyper-threading technology and showed what wasn't being installed. I started checking things. Found the error - he needed some other files and sys files. In the meantime, he brought me some snacks: one Methi paratha and a few Mumras. At this time, he was almost surprised that I understood what was wrong in the first place. I fixed it, he became proud of his hyper-threading technology once again, and dropped me off in front of the college gate.<br />
<br />
If you think about it, had he hired a local computer technician, his expenses would have been upwards of Rs. 200, at least; that too ten years ago. If he would have hired a computer technician, he would have given the guy much more respect. But I was giving him free labor, and that too upon my own insistence to prove that I was also "a person who knew computers". Did I have anything to prove to a new person in spite of being the system administrator of the entire college? No. Did I get the respect I deserved for being able to do what I did? No. I think it is my deep-rooted desire to do charity, and the insecurity and naivete of a 21-year-old that drove me it. It took me a while to know more about the market itself, and what my value was. That has made me a different person now. With a bigger ego, and a more aware mind. I would still do open-source projects and help others with their "computer problems". But now, I want to do that for people who realize the value of my contribution.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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To have what isn't yours: is it stealing or sheer good luck? To most people, the moral compass swings depending on the manner in which you came across the object in question. For example, if you found a hundred rupee note while you were taking your morning stroll, most people would think it is just their luck and would pick up the money. However, if you just saw that the note dropped off someone's pocket in front of you, will you still silently pocket the money or will you call the man and let him know? Like I mentioned, the "manner" of acquisition of the object matters most when deciding if it is morally self-permissible to have it.<br />
<br />
What you do with it is a completely different question: some would donate it to a beggar or charity nearby, others would just add it to their wallet. Let us not digress there for now.<br />
<br />
Guilt-free rationalization of being the beneficiary of an error is an art to be learned. Allow me to explain. Shoplifting and clerical errors are part of any store's budget. Which means, on any given day, in spite of all kinds of security guards, RFID tags, etc. there are always a few items that slip through. usually, the big brand stores already calculate for that in their daily operations (sort of like their rent or electricity bill). A certain category of people always benefit from the errors of the clerk, meaning the person at the counter probably just failed to scan an item and therefore you got it without paying. You might discover it in the store itself, or you might come home and realize that the item in your bag does not appear on the bill. Now the question is, do you return to the counter or to the store and pay for that as well?<br />
<br />
"Maybe, maybe not" for most of us. In a just and truthful world, where you "[be] are the change you wish to see in the world", perhaps all of us would go back and get ourselves billed for that item. In reality, some of us have also learned to live with the fact that "it was their mistake" and therefore you are not at fault to pay for this even though you benefited from the transaction. Notice the words <i>mistake</i> and <i>fault</i> here: the implicit assumption of penalty for wrongdoing is used to absolve yourself of any guilt.<br />
<br />
For some of us, though, a big factor in the equation is the size of the business who loses money due to this. If it is a simple 2-3 person neighborhood store run by some man with his wife and kids, we would think twice before doing this. If, however, it is a big chain of stores where some faceless nameless guy at the top of the foodchain has to eventually deal with it, you would be much more comfortable with this. "He has enough money", "he wouldn't even notice this", "big corporations are evil anyway so I am just getting back at them", "they exploit poor workers in China/the villages" are the many justifications you can use to rationalize your behavior. Notice that those are the same justifications that one may use to rob or steal from a wealthy businessman - they already have enough, right?<br />
<br />
I can see that there are lots of discussions that may arise out of this post, or perhaps lots of other blog posts as well. But in essence what it boils down to is whether your conscience is clear of your deeds, by hook or by crook. Like Sri Ramakrishna used to say, "ভাবের ঘরে যেন চুরি না থাকে" - (loosely translated) let there be no fraud in your own deeply personal thoughts.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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Like most things in life, there are two sides to "personalization" on the web. In case you don't realize this, each time you googled for something while you were logged into gmail at the same time, Google kept track of your search. Not just that, it actually tracks which search results and links you click, how long you spent there before hitting the back button to return to the search screen. Google knows what you did each summer. This sounds creepy, right?<br />
<br />
However, is this a bad thing, always? The short answer is that "it depends" (spoken like a true consultant!). It depends on <u>what</u> you consider a bad thing. I do admit, though, that being tracked "always" does send a shiver down my spine. If you think you are immune, (or you don't have a gmail account), don't flatter yourself. Unless you log out of Facebook each time you are done browsing, you will see a message on a lot of websites who you haven't "Like"-d yet. Usually, it will say this: "1,337 like this page - be the first of your friends" or it will show five or six of your friends and strongly suggest that you should join the club. What do you expect - Facebook doesn't know which websites you have been browsing?<br />
<br />
One thing that tends to come up often when we start talking about internet privacy is, "So what?". Meaning, what exactly can someone do with this information? The answer is a lot of things, the biggest of which is targeted advertising. If you happened to click on a particular pair of shoes on amazon.com and hit the back button, you might see that same pair of shoes following you around on various websites. The lack of privacy can also mean a lot of other things. For example, some website might know that your teenage daughter is pregnant way before you do simply based on internet browsing history.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, it is useful as well. Facebook does this to some extent, for example, by looking at which friends you "Like" or comment upon most, tries to prioritize updates from those friends. It will also show you ads for Nike shoes if you happened to update your status as "I love running". Google can improve your search results if it knows that you are going to look at the more recent news items than older results and could bring them on top. Google adsense is of course the flip side of the story - playing a similar role.<br />
<br />
So how much sharing is good enough? And how do you make sure you are sharing only so much? The answer to the first question is relative to each person. For example, if you need to enable your not-so-tech-savvy aunt to find the result she is looking for on the first page of a Google search, it is a good idea to let her remain logged in. It can help you and me as well, if for example your searches are typically related to the medical domain then customized results would be very useful. The answer to the second question is trickier - and there isn't a definitive answer. My recommendation is to remain on the conservative side - people far smarter than you and I have developed algorithms and "computer stuff" that can connect the dots about you in ways you are not even aware of.<br />
<br />
Some of the privacy you have to give up anyway, whenever you use "services" such as Facebook or Google. We live in a connected world, where our digital footprint is inevitably and undeniably linked to our offline identities. You cannot fight it; instead you have to let it flow and embrace it. Like most things in life, you are worth far more than you think, and the sooner you realize the potential the better.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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So, have you ever wondered how small is the atom? Look at this video from TED Ed:<br />
<br />
<br />
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<i>For my readers outside California, Lucky is a chain of grocery stores similar to Big Bazaar in India or Tesco in the UK.</i><br />
<br />
I am a big fan of contests and sweepstakes from big and well-known brands. Those that promise $10,000 rewards just if you fill out a contest form or something. I know, I know - the chances are rare and there is almost no way of verifying that they indeed gave away the prizes they promised. I also know that a lot of times they are just harvesting emails and phone numbers - nobody actually gets any prize. But two things give me the motivation to fill out these sweepstakes and survey forms. One, if I am buying stuff from a store anyway, I might as well participate and give it a shot - I do not have to buy anything extra to get those sweepstakes entries. Secondly, I have my junk email ids which I feed into these websites where I don't care who they sell it to. Finally, rest assured there <u>IS</u> a zealous customer somewhere (other than the law enforcement) who will check if the prizes were indeed given out and if someone cheated, etc. Wherever and whoever you are on the map, there is always someone crazier than you who will do that for you.<br />
<br />
If I remember correctly, this is the third iteration of Lucky's sweepstakes which they roll out annually in various avatars. Let me rephrase that - this is the third year in a row that I am participating. The timing coincides with the Spring-Summer season each time - another topic of discussion for some other day. But the topic of this post is the evolution of the sweepstakes and the gradual ease of participation that they have got right this time.<br />
<br />
First up, let's compare the prizes. In the first year, they rolled out a simple game. For each $10 you spend, you get a stamp. Collect enough stamps and you can get pots and pans. If you have unused stamps, you can buy just stamps for raw money. The "game board" as they like to put it was in the Lucky brand colors - red, black and white. It was simple, comprehensible, but bland. The options (prizes) were limited and did not cater to everyone's needs or fancies. You could, technically, buy more stamps to fill out your chart and get to the golden points. However, buying stamps with money to fill more slots on the board which in turn gets you a crock-pot which you could buy with money anyway takes the fizz out of the game. And what do I do with the spillover stamps I have? Tough luck - you get nothing, nada.<br />
<br />
The next year, they had a better game plan. The game board was more colorful and had a lot more prize/ sweepstakes options. You get different stickers, you put them on different numbered slots, and then you mail them in once you complete one block. You are getting three stickers for every $10 you spend. What was wrong with this model? First of all, the "stickers" did not really stick. They were bad quality stamp glue which you had to lick and affix. Also, you could do nothing with the extra stickers - you hang on to them and purchase a new game board, hoping one of them clicks and you put it on the new ones.<br />
<br />
The stickers themselves are worth a blog post on their own, from all statistical, financial, psychological perspectives. But here is a small trailer. One qualifying purchase = one set of three stickers. There is a game of chance already when you tear open that pack of three stickers. In this gamble, the house always wins because the same set of three stickers as they were printed make their way into the same store, which you end up getting multiple times. How do you increase your chances, then? Shop at different stores, even within the same geographical area! Also, if you are out of town and find another Lucky, go grab as many stickers as you would need in your next grocery shopping list. Statistically, you should be sampling from a different set which increases your chance of completing one block of stickers. There is huge product placement, there is great gamification and psychological push, plus a lot more. More importantly, from a pure economics standpoint, the company gets to be in the driving seat and can control the market and drive sales/incentives; simply by controlling how many "winning stickers" they release into the market when.<br />
<br />
What are the things which they corrected this time? No more lick-your-stamp-stickers this time. You get actual stickers: peel them and stick them on the board. Spurious stickers go into dedicated slots where what you put doesn't matter - each purchase therefore definitely counts. They still retain the power over the game participants and by extension, the market. In the stores, they have actually marked out products very clearly on the aisles that also feature on the game board. This connects the game with the physical product - the stickers are no longer just plain pawns on a chess-board. Finally, spillover stickers that did not fill out any of the boxes still count in the final raffle draw when the rest of the competition ends - the element of buyer's regret is definitely mitigated. This last one I suspect is the result of some legal action by some customer - remember the guy who is crazier than you who lives in the same zip code?<br />
<br />
Having sung all these praises for Lucky, I do have a few gripes. They seem to be killing the goose that lays the golden eggs by asking you to purchase stuff worth $20 in order to get three stickers - yup, double what it used to cost before. This really sucks, as it almost negates the pain they have taken out of using those stickers and what they promise to deliver. They could engage more people by making it more painless - instead of me actually sticking tiny bits of paper on a glorified poster (a.k.a. game board), they could convert the game into an online rendezvous with codes instead of stickers so that you maintain your game board online. Besides being more secure, they can open up more revenue opportunities by encouraging people to buy more stuff online and get special incentives (an extra sticker, perhaps?) for online purchases. Also, instead of yet another drawing at the end, the leftover stickers could be converted into a partner's credit line: for example if you have 20 or more stickers left, you will get 50 cents off your next gas purchase at Shell. That should actually take care of the lawsuit I suspect which drove this leftover raffle in the first place.<br />
<br />
Well, Lucky - are you listening? :)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karna">Karna</a> from the Mahabharata is a character you keep running into from time to time. Two brilliant posts by the <a href="http://jaiarjun.blogspot.com/2011/07/epic-fictions-rashomon-like-world-of.html?spref=fb">Jabberwocky</a> and Mr. <a href="http://ovshake.blogspot.com/2011/01/son-of-sun.html">O-V-Shake</a> just reminded me of my trysts with Karna, and I want to recount them here.<br />
<br />
Actually, even before I dive into Karna's character and the dramatic mix of luck, valor and cowardice in his life, let me tell you about when I first heard or read about Karna. No it wasn't a textbook (or the Mahabharat TV series). It was during one of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soumitra_Chatterjee">Soumitra Chatterjee</a>'s visits to my home town. For those of you who know him from just the movies, you definitely do not know the great elocutionist and reciter that is he. I have been fortunate enough to listen to his recitation of the "<i>Karna Kunti Sangbad</i>" - a great poem by Rabindranath Tagore. The poem depicts Karna's last and only honest conversation with Kunti when she begs for her other son's life.If you ever get a chance, definitely listen to it. When I came across this poetic novel again in my academic life, the beautiful baritone recitation that I had in my mind made reading this piece all the more enjoyable.<br />
<br />
When I was in school, the life and tragedy of Karna was the theme of discussion in quite a few classes. I have written essays and answered short questions in exams a number of times about what kind of injustice he had to endure all through his mortal existence. And singing paeans to tragic heroes is always easy, I would say, especially since from the first day of the class, that is the very idea your teachers preached and recited. The number of marks you received at the end of the semester depended to a large extent on how well you could weep in ink (or at least so I believed).<br />
<br />
The other thing that was taught was that he epitomized the notion of a good friend. He stuck to the losing side just because he was friends with them, and never left his friends even in the thick of battle. His loyalty was something to be emulated, especially since he was the underdog fighting against a well-trained opponent (namely, Arjuna). If you read Jabberwocky's post above, you will know what I mean.<br />
<br />
When I was in college, this topic of discussion came up once with a friend. He was thoroughly on the side of Arjuna (and I admit, to my surprise). Throughout my education, I had this self-evident notion of Karna being the good guy and Arjuna the bad guy (you can interpret it as the poor union worker vs the greedy capitalist in Communist Party interpretation). It was also supported by my teachers, and I think someone else who was my parents' age echoed the sentiment as well. So I then proceeded to illustrate (and secretly educate) my friend about why he should consider Karna the true hero of the situation, and how the devious Arjuna slayed him at a time when he was at a serious disadvantage.<br />
<br />
But my friend pointed out a serious flaw in my lifelong theory. That being, a true friend's duty is to rescue his friend from taking a wrong step, not going with the flow no matter what. So when Duryodhan was asking his brother to pull and drag Draupadi into the courtroom by her hair, or when he was trying to usurp the Hastinapur throne after the Pandavas returned, it was Karna's moral duty to stop his friend from doing these. Also, my friend added, if you find someone on the path to doom and you have tried your best to prevent them from that outcome, you have no moral obligation to stick with them; irrespective of whatever favors they have done to you.<br />
<br />
As I ponder over it today, I think my friend was right. This second look at the character brought out a very different reality of Karna for me. More than friendship or loyalty, I think the bigger reason why he took Duryodhan's side was plain politics and vengeance. He thought he was joining the winning side, hated the Pandavas to the core, and earlier alliances with Duryodhan would have paid off much richer dividends if indeed the Kauravas had won the war.<br />
<br />
But more than the politics, it is interesting how perceptions and realities change when one can think critically about subjects. I wonder what other surprises lie in store for me. But to confess, I actually relish these opportunities of revisiting what I have learned and debating them - the exercise is very intellectually satisfying.<br />
<br />
Before I end this post, however, I have to tell you about one of the closing lines from "<i>Karna Kunti Sangbad</i>" which always stayed with me. When Karna decides to sacrifice his life to let Arjuna live, just because Kunti asked for it, he states,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"জয়ী হউক অমর হউক পান্ডব সন্তান <br />আমি রব নিশ্ফালের হতাশের দলে"</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>(Let the son of Pandu be victorious and live forever, I choose to stay with the hopeless desperate ones) -- Rabindranath Tagore<span>. </span></i></div>
</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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So for those of you who have been asking for a guest post for a long time on this blog, here is something you must savor as you read through. I recently helped my friend set up her fresh new blog (yeah yeah... the whole damsel in distress and the knight in shining armor thingie). In lieu, she has generously allowed me to quote a small part of her blog post as a guest post here.<br />
Her first ever blog post is called, "<a href="http://pigmentsofmylife.blogspot.com/2012/02/fruits-of-marriage.html">The Fruits of Marriage</a>". Here is an excerpt:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Few simple reasons why I reconsidered marriage and signed up for it (okay, other than the trust, companionship, emotional security, commitment, eternal love, finding the right one and happily ever after bit) - </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>To get the occasional foot rub</b> – You don't get professional proficiency but hey, you don't pay for it either! It all comes with the package! Plus, where else would you get it exactly when you want it the most, may it be by the end of a long, cold and tiring day.<br /><br /><b>To get customized massage</b> – If you tell me about the spa and massage parlors as alternatives, well, would they be open late in the night and provide the service on your very own bed so that the massage can end in the ultimate relaxation and a rejuvenated state of mind where you sleep in peace, the best sleep you ever had? Very amateur indeed, might not come with fragranced candles, aromatic oils or soothing music that would transcend you to the unfathomable world of pleasure and ecstasy, but it may range from erotic and sensual to a pair of robotic hard stiff hands trying to make sense of 'the art of massage' on your body. This might be so unrelaxing that you may loose the desire to get your next massage for another month or so! So, what is your gain in here? Well, your mind gets so diverted in the process that you forget about the back pain that you ever had!<br /><br /><b>For some warmth</b> – If nothing else, now you can tuck your freezing toe against his in the night. Disclaimer: you are in trouble if he expects the favor back from you!<br /><br /><b>For a lot of convenience</b> – Marriage brings you a part-time volunteer chauffeur, an emergency car mechanic and a lifelong technical support if you married an IT engineer. And guess what? He does it all with a lot of 'love' and 'passion', even if not for you but for the 'technology', and anything even vaguely related to technology and engineering!<br /><br /><b>To stop playing the hard-to-get</b> – Marriage always makes u more attractive to other men! There is no longer any moral obligation to conform to men's hard-to-get fantasy for a woman. Now you are genuinely 'hard to get' for all the men sans your husband.<br /><br /><b>For the real peace of mind</b> - Now you can politely refuse having coffee with that super cheesy colleague of yours just by uttering those golden words “I am married, you know!!”, followed by a compelling smile. You do not any more have those curious aunts poking nose in your love life. Even if u refuse to share details of your romantic life, your aunts no more worry that you might become a nun! Those family friends do not spread rumors about your sexual orientation any longer just because you refused to marry their 'all-perfect eligible bachelor' son! Now you have your husband as a silent proof of your real sexual preference. Suddenly all those 'friends' disappear who kept trying to make you jealous (and in turn bored you to death) with the telesoap-ey romantic stories of their boy friends, fiancés and husbands. Now they know that you too have a husband and you know what exactly does the package come with!<br /><br /><b>To finally have that witty guy who also laughs at your PJs</b> – Oh yes, dear God, girls have the legal right to be humorous and hilarious as well!<br /><br /><b>To avail the couple discounts</b> – You no longer need to 'look for' a boy friend or a girl friend to avail couple discounts at the gym, library, dance class, airlines, hotel, costco and so on (and these days there is a couple discount for everything under the sun you may think of).</blockquote>
So go ahead and enjoy the rest of her <a href="http://pigmentsofmylife.blogspot.com/2012/02/fruits-of-marriage.html">blog post</a> (and yes, I assure you, there is a LOT more!). This one should be one hell of a blog to follow! :)<br /><br />P.S. - For those of you with the grin on your face asking me, "So what does your wife think of this post?"... well, let's just say, and I quote, "I couldn't agree more". So much for charity in the name of technology! :)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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The US economy thrives on a singular concept: C<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Consumerism">onsumerism</a>. The concept of spending money I don't have for things that I don't really need but still want to possess. It is contagious, addictive, and . This also creates a huge market for second-hand goods. Together, these two drive the market - more cash flowing through the system, more wealth being created, more debts (a revolving credit card debt of $10,000 is pretty common it seems) - and eventually, more goods being consumed. Therefore, if your TV or the sofa comes with a 5 year warranty, most people are happy with it. They will sell it or discard it and get a new one at the end of five years anyway. So far so good.<br />
<br />
In India, however, I grew up with the concept of buying things for the long term in practice around me everywhere. Or as Westerners are learning the concept so recently, we believe a lot in <i>Jugaad</i> technology - making do with limited resources to achieve equal ends. When I was in school, one of my friends showed me how the refill of a ball-point pen could itself be refilled with a little turpentine oil and a drop of ink, and there was a person who would do that for you for a rupee. Consider the numbers here again - a Reynolds pen that used to cost Rs. 10, would be refilled with another thin cartridge for Rs. 5 (branded Reynolds, the local equivalent was available for Rs. 3.50), and the cartridge in turn could be refilled for a rupee. In effect, the pen would last about as long as you did not chew off the other end (that too had its fixes) or the ball did not actually fall off the nib of the pen or start leaking too much. (I am proud to tell you that I fixed a couple of those as well - you need strong teeth to do that).<br />
<br />
Today, however, when I go to a conference or an expo today, I can collect about twenty to thirty pens just like that - and I tend to throw away a used pen after it is empty. And I rarely use it except to sign or take notes in meetings sometimes. When I look back at the time I used to do so much to make a worn out pen last that long, I sometimes feel guilty that I don't pass them along to those who need them more.<br />
<br />
Which brings us to the title of the post. Like any self-respecting true geek in the Silicon Valley, my first reaction when I see the latest new gadget in someone's hands is "wow". It isn't just peer pressure or a fad. The amount of new features and processing power that come bundled with those sleek and tiny phones or behind the 8 inch screen tablet are just plain mind-boggling. Five years back one would have paid an arm and a leg to buy the kind of processing power in a full size desktop PC that comes bundled in a smart phone for free with a contract these days. And people are willing to pay north of two thousand dollars to buy the latest Macbook Pro where their primary job would be to browse the internet and prepare MS Word documents. The question is - do I really need it?<br />
<br />
The first PC I bought had the latest specs at that time - and I mostly ended up playing computer games on it. I did some bit of programming, but not much. Truth be told, my programming needs would have been solved with a machine with half the processing power and definitely a quarter of the cost. Of course I learned quite a lot while troubleshooting it, but it wasn't perhaps worth spending my parents' money over that entirely. The current laptop I possess is the third computer that I ever bought (I've had it since 2007). My office refreshes my laptop every one and a half to two years My latest computer was bought in the spur of the moment when I still had another perfectly fine laptop. Today, however, when I go to others' homes and see a stack of laptops strewn around, or when I try out someone else's slick new laptop with triple the processing power as my own, the urge to get myself a new one grows big. And during Thanksgiving or the holiday season, the sales and the ground-breaking "deals" on laptops seem to make the night-out outside of Best Buy absolutely worth it.<br />
<br />
But then again, the question arises, do I really need those? My laptop serves my purposes very well - of programming, downloading stuff and web surfing (not necessarily in that order of priority). Could I use another laptop? The tempting answer of "Yeah, sure!" actually raises the big question mark - and the true answer becomes no. Why? Because the current laptop will fall into disuse then. The purchase of my current laptop from five years ago would become a bad investment - I wouldn't get the right value out of it for all the student-time hard earned chunk of money which I spent at that time. Well, what if it lasts for another 10 years? Would I pass on the sleek light and blazing fast machines of then just to hold on to an "investment"? Here is my favourite part of any answer - "It depends". It depends on whether the laptop still serves my purpose. Can I still use it if I have to travel and lug it around? Can it run my programs and tasks then? Would it be able to handle the network speeds then? If yes, then no I still don't need a new laptop. If no - woohoo!! Off we go to the gadget shop! :)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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Since the Durga Puja got over about a month back, it is time to reflect back on the good five days that went by, and calculate how many <i>Bhakti</i> points you have collected. These are redeemable for <i>Punya</i> credit, of course, when you reach heaven. Also, by attending the Durga Puja, you have already guaranteed yourself a spot in heaven - so don't worry about the <i>Bhakti</i> points expiring or something like that.<br />
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First up, your knowledge of the <i>Devi</i> <i>Stotra</i>: <i>"Sarva Mangala Mangalye...". </i>See, it isn't just enough that you should know the verse by heart. Others also need to know that you know, especially the priest who is leading the chant. So if you can go ahead of others while they are mimicking whatever way the <i>Purohit</i> chants, especially by creating a generous high-pitched noise when others are trying to hear what the <i>Purohit</i> says, you get one <i>Bhakti</i> point each time. Oh, by the way, grant yourself a bonus point if you were able to (very audibly) "Tsch-tsch" when someone mis-pronounced some word. Those illiterate desis, I tell you!<br />
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Second, were you able to grab enough flowers during the <i>Pushpanjali</i>? Let everyone else fend for themselves. You know that this one is the jackpot... each petal of flower counts as one whole <i>Bhakti</i> point! So I am hoping that you grabbed enough flowers when the basket passed by for three rounds of offering. Your disappointment is understandable when you realized that it was just one round of flower offering... it was like finishing an XBox game of WWII with more than 2/3<sup>rd</sup>s of your ammo left! Oh, and definitely award yourself bonus points if you brought your own flowers and gently pointed towards the common basket when someone asked for a little share from your pot! Those freeloaders, I tell you!<br />
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Next, (and very important), how much gold were you wearing? Each carat equals one point, and if they weren't visible then sorry, they don't count. You must have made sure that the most silky gorgeous saree decorated your <strike>flabby</strike> fine body while you pushed your way through the crowds. Ahh the maddening joy of the cacophony of scents - overdoses of perfume and stinking sweat pouring as you jostled past the idle aunties and oldies! Bonus points in this round can be earned if you were able to go up on the altar and hang on for that extra second while the whole <i>mandap</i> full of people stared at you. The poor you had to make up your own personal fashion ramp! Those penurious organizers, I tell you! <br />
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Fourth, did you get enough time with the <i>aarti</i> lamps? Here's how you earn points in this round: you have to execute a perfect scowl when others hog the lamp and take their own sweet time in swinging the lamp in front of the <i>Devi</i>. Make sure your body language along with the subtle shoving and pushing disturbs that lady who is doing the <i>aarti</i> at any given time. And when your turn comes, remember to face the five deities in front of you five times each and execute a perfect circle. One full swing = one point. Bonus points are easy to make... just return an evil scowl to those standing in line behind you just after you are done with your own Puja. Those impatient slobs, I tell you!<br />
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Finally, how active was your hubby during the whole process? This matters the most. The bigger the lens of his DSLR camera, the better. Different angles, once while you are holding the lamp in your hand, once without - he must have captured each moment and even asked you stop and pose for a second. If you had a hubby who did not stand in front of at least two other cameras and stared down two organizers in his right to enter forbidden space to click your pics - you have a nobody on your hands. Definitely, definitely triple check all the photos right after each shoot on the spot, and re-take anything that makes you look fat. Admittedly, your hubby has to earn his right to the <i>prasad</i>. Bonus points? Oh that should be self-evident! Get someone else's hubby to take a picture of you two juxtaposed with the deity while his wife looks on flabbergasted. Oh the joy of a picture perfect <i>Puja</i> album on Facebook, I tell you!<br />
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:) </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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</script></div>Sudipta Chatterjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11179666209066615252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508468.post-25699455571476464842011-09-28T15:00:00.000-07:002011-09-28T15:00:28.882-07:00The help<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Growing up in India, all of us have become accustomed to having someone like a maid or a nurse/caretaker as part of our everyday life. I have had my own share of experiences as well - some of them definitely worth writing about some other day. Right from learning about social faux pas and the political correctness of terms, to being in their position and seeing what it feels like to be treated as one. From almost motherly figures to the stereotypical villains - tales will be told as the time comes. For now, though, I wish to tell you about one particular incident.<br />
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As with most housemaids, it takes a while to build trust and rapport and to not notice a little "shortage" of stuff around the house. From the time she joined our household, we never noticed anything significantly missing. I use the word "significantly" here because we suspected there might be some amount of human error in calculations on our part - the tin of rice which used to last 20 days maybe was sustaining us now for 18 days: nothing to bother about. As per our household rules, we would always cook food for her as well in our daily lunch and dinner, and she would dutifully take it home every day to share with her family. My mother used to always save something extra for her, since she knew it was not just her mouth we were feeding every day.<br />
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Then after a couple of months, the "shortage of stuff" kept getting significantly higher. There was a hurried tone in the maid's voice and she always seemed to be leaving the house in a hurry at night. We found some spilled turmeric on the shelves some day, or a few missing eggs from the fridge the other. There was only one suspect, and of course she denied all charges when she was confronted by my mother.<br />
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One night, when my parents were away, I went to the kitchen to fetch some water to drink, when I walked in on something I didn't intend to. There she was, sitting on the floor with a newspaper spread out and pouring some Bournvita on it. When I walked in, it took her exactly three seconds to undo the pouring, put it back in the container, close the container lid, shove it under the nearest shelf, and fold the newspaper into a wreck and "appear" to be caressing/examining it with great detail. Her face, though, was wrought with fear. I could not confront her then, so we both pretended that nothing had happened. I got my water and went back to my study desk.<br />
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I told my mother about this when she came back, and then the next morning my mother had a fresh conversation with her. This time, however, she broke down. It turned out that her husband had lost work recently, and she was the only source of sustenance for the family. And somehow, like most under-educated or illiterate poor families, by family I mean they had 5-6 children (and still going). The Bournvita she was taking that day was the only evening meal/snack she had for her children. I cannot tell you how deeply guilty I felt of being privileged at that time, and how helpless I felt. My mother shared my feeling at that time, and gave her a new container of Bournvita and also said that she can take some spices etc. from our household for a month until her husband finds a job as long as she tells in advance.<br />
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But the stealing continued. And after a while I think all of us got tired of this cat and mouse game. As far as I remember, her husband probably found work at some other town and they moved out. I haven't heard of them since.<br />
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The reason I brought up this post is because I cannot forget the face I saw that day in the kitchen. It was the desperate act of a poor mother trying to provide for her children by all means possible.And it was the face of shame written all over her at the same time, knowing that I had seen it all. I still do drink Bournvita at times (or just chew it down raw), but sometimes when I am buying it at the store or mixing it in my milk, sitting here in the US, I tend to remember that face in the kitchen from 15 years ago. </div>
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