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Friday, June 27, 2008

Get up, stand-up

stand-up for your rights; getup, stand-up, don't give up the fight.

Marley had it; i may have it; there are a few more in the world who dare to have it. ain't there a scale to measure the steps that you walked towards achieving it? you achieve it or not is a separate discussion to have, but what's important is that you set the priorities straight and have straight means to achieve the goal - however much the world tries to pull you and whisk you through Jane Austen's classic (S&S - ?). you hold your ground well and pretend that you didn't feel the weight of 161 feet treading past you.

all what matters in this world is a self-made man, with a 'Made in India' tag on the collar. when everyone around the world is getting fidgety and trying to understand breeding of the Indian thought; when GMR is pulling all the blocks in getting India ready for the world; there comes a thought and rises to the level of godhood. when all (mortal beings) were lost in the silver ledges of Himalayas and trying to find the fickle Musk Deer along the shore of Lake Mansarovar, a mighty blow came from the gorges: what do you say is the probability that an Indian can go to China?

may be that's the reason why there is a cent percent presence in E2. there is only one way to love; and i may be getting to understand it...

Did you notice that too?

Discussion on advertisement is in the air, so here is the tribute:

These hoardings send a very deep message across the general public. Some may appreciate them, many would just shrug at them and cross untouched. A few of them have really hit the cord with me.


Consider these:

1. Goodwill.org – DONATE YOUR CAR. FREE PICKUPs PROVIDED.
Wow! This is just amazing. We are giving you our cars for free and you are showing such an attitude towards picking our cars for free. So much for the Goodwill sake.
FUCK YOU, AMERICAN ATTITUDE.

2. Bare minimum coverage:
I forgot whose ad is this, but the gist of it lies in the eyes of the beholder. A bare white statue of a lady, with eyes shut, shown with a BLACK patch across the breasts. Thoughtful, huh!

3. Yoga Classes:
A Diet Coke poster in the downtown area that shows a flipped Coke Can (flipped upside down). Coke sending a healthful message, huh!

4. Western Union:
Money Transfers made easy with Western Union. A hoarding on I-55N showing the ARCH on the left side with a message “Other ways to send money”, and a straight line on the right side with a message “Get money faster – Western Union”.

They just pulled it off with this AD. This may have pissed off a few in the St. Louis area, but that just made my day.

5. QT:
Quick Trip has a hoarding on I-55S that shows an image of a Gas filling nozzle with a message “CARBURETORS HAVE FANTASIES TOO”. You get it?

6. Some Realtor:
Hoarding #1: You know what we did with your neighbor last night?
Drive a little…
Hoarding #2: We sold their home.
COOL. AIN’T IT?

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

if you don't see me tomorrow...

...then goodbye, and good-luck.

i don't bitch that often but the open ware has started to transcend the virus through the porous veins of superficiality and finding it's way to the left side of the world. today, sitting here, in the filth of austerity, i am finding no way to dig my karma out. but i can see, for sure, the reason why contempt flashed over the serenity of the flustered face. and more i see middle-class idiosyncrasies trying get past another and spiral into a mighty burp, i see myself getting more detached with the personality of the generation.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

and i rest my soul bare...

...may be she attained Moksha and left the cruel world in search of 'the One'.

i feel that she had been waiting for that very moment from the time we entered the dungeon of Mr. F. - our landlord. it's been a hide and seek between the crawlers and nocturnal (my roomie and i). may be we invaded their asylum and threatened their very existence in the age of the worthy - to be MBAs. each day of learning at the school and following night-outs must have invested discomforting thoughts into their ancient, underdeveloped minds that we were The Threat to their very existence. but then they didn't make a move; and didn't even try to shoo out the encroacher. huh! may be they had become the talking-managers and couldn't fight their way out to a conclusion.

shit may be the case, she had to face it eventually, and she paid it dearly. the chirps have died in the dark of the ages and have subsided under the sound of incompetence (or incongruence for the worthy souls). i had it enough of them eating my crump out and creeping me out in the middle of night, and i finally took the gun to shoot them to glory. there dared their way in the line of fire and rested their lives for the One, for her. may be they all ventured to save her (that's how Iris refers it) - the only female cockroach in our washroom. they died one after the other, but they successfully managed to give her an escape route. but the fate had it sounded - she couldn't bear the burden of three dead cockroach souls on her head and, in the morning, we saw her body floating in the bucket, and we penned down the suicide case. may she (they) rest in peace - or piece. Amen!

is there a lesson we can learn out of this, or incubate a business model? i am going nuts!

oh! oh! 'Is it worthy to be a cockroach?' Analyze, criticize...

Monday, June 16, 2008

VJ’s Classics

It’s ringing in my head, with every alphabet taking the string and striking it with the blow of dissonance. Had it been Robben Ford, my amygdala would have channelized the safe passage and had ‘Let the Baby in’, but a discordant set of curious thoughts doesn’t get a free ride. ‘Is there anybody out there’ that could translate the universally accepted Floyd’s classics in accordance with VJ’s?

I don’t have anything evil in mind when I write this, but I just find it interesting to translate someone else’s thoughts and in conformance with mine. What’s more interesting is that my thoughts don’t differ much with the imaginary consensus that balances the strengths. I never had realized the sheer imagination that can rise through the slumbering monotone of a marketing lecture, but there are a selected few who are potent enough to break the orthodoxy of the nation and become the quintessential example of the rising generation. By the way, I love to rest my ass on the old sofa.

The classics turned out to be the essence of Gen-X’s way of looking at life, and it may just be my gray hair that resists transcending any contemporary thoughts. May be I should just try to be a little flexible and understand the deep rooted philosophy behind the classics, may be I should just stop thinking. Or may be you can decide better.

Take them with a pinch of salt (or rasam, if you insist):

Class –in the cusp of accounting; Surya S. straddling the slides and bleeding the projector...
VJ - Sir, Why do companies work on credit?

Class - especially, the bunch hiding behind the wall, agape...WHAT THE FUCK?
SS - hidden smitten on the face; who on earth can answer that? may be, i will try...
okay, we gave him the benefit of doubt; we didn't know what was in the store and what we will endure for the days to come.

class getting back to the sliding sine wave; a voice erupted...
Sir,
i don't see anyone,
what's going on...
why did we stop,
why 's Surya s smiling again?

VJ rises from abyss: Sir, why do companies need to re-state their earning (to correct, if they stated it incorrectly)? why can't companies hide it from the investors?

SS, clutching on the mic, trying not to look perturbed. yes, yes, i can answer that...
travail continues... discussion drifted towards invoicing and invoices;
VJ - Sir, what if you loose the invoice of your order?
HUH!
SS - get a duplicate. are you afraid of calling your vendor to send you a duplicate? oh! reliance connection might not be working.

and the travesty continued...

one more day, one more chance to raise yourself to God-hood. Shareholders seem to be happy that the company is gonna announce huge dividends...

VJ - Sir, who will track and make sure that you receive the dividends?
Excuse me...
where is the leash; snoopy, help me, i need to borrow something today...
SS - own the shares first, you ******; i am not your bloody assistant, who will track your portfolio, if you have one.

then, came a not the usual one...
VJ - Sir, how many companies in the US use LIFO system?
SS - this is not a GK class, remember? FA - getting a cue? in any case, here is the number...
we smirked.

SS showed an example wherein there was no fund impairment in a particular year, but other years had impairment.
Class - deep into the sea of FA and trying to grasp the rooted philosophy.
VJ - sir, why 2006 shows no impairment?
Mummy,
SS - common-sense; heard of it?

on the verge of finishing FA sessions,

Class - happy to be getting away from the distress...
VJ - Sir, if i sign a contract with a customer, do i show it on my revenue account...
guys, close the Ramayana, we gotta get back home; Ravana is not coming back to the home-town.

No negative thoughts; no bad feeling. Chill is the way of life – rock for a blessed few. May be a leash is a better option. Oh! For me.

The final frontier; the first step

You like it or not, the circuitous turn of events will take you back to the same hour of life. The scene is not quite different; smell of ink seeping through the pages; ticking of the piece rising through the head; targeted thoughts run by the minute and stay focused on the dried, dead thoughts of the orator. It’s like coming back to the same life, with listed thoughts setting guide to the unknown. And the link goes back to the over congested nights; overwhelmed with the striking images of the recent past. How would I cope up with the settled unsettling thoughts?

It took a lot more than courage to ride my way to the 24th SM Street; nothing but the mind is at stake; a way to behave and way to think. Notice not the ashes, but a diminishing sliver lining, which decided to rest for a while to stay alive with the optimistic thoughts. A few lively souls do traverse the path and brighten the hope to the dangerous degrees, but helping to keep standing and realizing the cushy spots along the bumpy ride. Jerry Macquire said it right “roll with the punches, tomorrow is another day”. If fight is the only way of life, then it’s prudent not to rest the armor, but to make it lethal with every grind.

But, then, there are so many dark spots that color at the horizon has decided to disguise the identity of the virgin soul. And the institution is making sure that disguised images go deep into the gallows of incompetence. The sheer lethargy of vibrant words let the message dwindle before it reaches the vestiges of the past in the wisdom tooth. What we hear and what we see is the thought of inability that tries to shape the future. With the crumbling foundation of an ignoble thought, there stands a man, with a dream to realize, a point to prove and a life to fulfill. Will it all rest on the dilapidating shoulders of the past; may be not; but on the strength to follow the trails of ages and making it glide past the demeaning thoughts of a noble institution.

It may have got a lot peripheral than I thought, but what good is the writing that doesn’t give way to the free will and the flow of unanchored thoughts? But the truth stays encumbered and squeezes through the life blood of the rising institution. What good do we do when we sprint with the zestful, but imaginary, thoughts not knowing that the relay has turned to a hurdle? A favorable, self fulfilling, prophecy would be to listen to the rooted sounds and strengthen the future for, an unbiased, good of all. That’s where the generations clash for the virtue of disguise, than for the eye of the bird. May all rest in peace, which, for sure, I won’t allow.