Sometimes when I read Bengali, it brings a smile to my face. After reading English everywhere, and hindi occasionally, surrounded by Gujarati and Marathi and splattering of Tamil and Telegu, Bengali suddenly brings to me the sweetness of the language, and the inherent poeticness of it.

The few times when I talk pure Bengali with my family, some words come up for which I cannot find a substitute in another language. Some others come up that seem archaic in Hindi, yet so commonplace in Bengali. The best part of course, is when I go to read something online in a Bengali newspaper. Sure the English version is what I read, but the reporting style still remains different. A slice of reporting from an era gone by where headlines were important and somehow, lyrical.

As I browsed and happened upon a Bengali site, I took the unusual step and opened it in office. Somehow Bengalis are unable to separate the poets out of them, and that in itself brings out a beauty in the language, something I have not noticed on others. Melodrama is part of the Bengali life, and everything has to be more serious and have higher emphasis than ever. And what better way to convey that than by grandiose language?

So going to a Durga Puja site, the captions are not something as simplistic as ‘Devi ka Visarjan’ or ‘Immersion of the Goddess’, but a phrase: Shoonya se Shoonya: puja ke kolahal mein mila hua hai nishabd, ekaki’. And the beauty of the caption is not just the caption, not the short one-liner, not the ‘antel pana’ as a Bengali would call it, but the normalcy of it all. That this is acceptable normal behavior. To write anything less would be pitiful, an unusual occurrence and of course, a sad lack of communication talent in the people who handle the page.

Is it a wonder then, that so many Bengalis have emerged as authors known for their descriptive proses? Not to me. The Bengali language itself apart from being sweet to hear, is sweetly handled. The directness of English or the technicality of Hindi may be missing from it, but it is a delight to read and hear and I feel bad for those who cannot savour its sweetness.

*antlami (आँत्लामी)/ antel-pana is the over-zealous behavior as witnessed by scholars or teachers or even, say, geeks. But then antels are ‘poets’ of a sort. If you can imagine the behavior of a kurta pajama clad man with a jhola for a bag, and thick glasses and plastered hair, talking lyrically or talking extremely seriously on economics/ world crisis/ politics/ global warming/ etc., you have identified an antel (आँतेल).

Ji?
Haan, hum chahte hain ki aapke beti ka haath aap mere bete ko dein.
Kya baat kahi aapne S-ji. Agar humari beti aapke ghar aa jaye to isse badi khushi hume nahi hogi.
To yeh lijiye, muh meetha kijiye!*

And so the boy and the girl met.
Thankfully this time, in real life, the sweets were not procured that fast and the couple were allowed to meet and choose each other.

Yes, this truly happened, though the dialogue above is conjecture, but allow me some writers freedom to make it Filmy. This happened in Bangalore, Karnataka between an Andhra Pradesh family and another Rajasthani one.

This interesting brand of marital alliance between one of my closest and oldest frnds and the mystery girl was quite hush hush till the last moment, at least to rexzilla  and me. Surprisingly put together by two families with nothing more than freindship in common, this rather filmy get-together worked romantically. Bangalore seems to be a city seeping with love ;)

Within a month of moving to a new city, a new job and a new house, alone, this man has found himself a few steps away from the altar. The same man who till months ago quaked at the serious thought of being wed.

Till the year 2005 there was a spate of weddings within my friend circle. A break was seen by me in 2007 when M, my erstwhile flat mate got married. This year seems to be again quite busy maritally and my calendar is filling up with wedding invites. My brothers wedding in December was expected. Now I have to add this frnds wedding and skip his engagement, as another of my frnds is getting married on that very day, in a different location. Auspicious day indeed!

Which basically reduces the trio to a duo of single spirits. Thank goodness we had the Goa vacation earlier this year and didnt wait till later. Because in the present scheme of things the later wouldnt have come.

Now to wait and meet the lady. And of course, attend the wedding to check whether 'baratiyon ka swagat Pan Paraag' se hoga ki nahi.**

[For my non-Hindi speaking audience:
We is used as a substitute for 'I' to show higher rank as compared to middle class families
* - a famous dialogue from most Bollywood movies in the 80s where two high ranked business men converse about their eligible children:
We want this friendship to culminate into relationship
O Rly?
Yes, We wish that your daughters hand is given to my son (in marriage).
What a wonderful thing Mr S. If my daughter is wed to your house/ family, it would give me great joy.
There then, here are some sweets to seal the deal

**- a famous advertisement from my childhood, where the only 'dahej' that the boys side want is that everyone is given Pan Paraag (a mouth freshener) when they come to attend the wedding.
So I wait to see if we are welcomed keeping the fimly manner alive, with Pan Paraag]

I wish I lived by the sea.
Even as the sentence left my mouth and I looked at the expression on sashdude and rexzilla's faces, I realised - I do live by the sea. I live in Bombay, barely 500 mts from the sea and a pretty decent beach and my office window overlooks an endless expanse of sea framed by tall buildings and a landmark island in the middle. In fact, its a joke that almost every house in Bombay opens on to the sea - whether it be one square inch only - or is next to it.

But the sea here is not what I call the sea. It is not the sea which attracts me, except from a sterile dry floor with A/C and fragrant air. The place where I can look out to its vast blue-greenishness without having to touch, feel and smell it.
The sea in Bombay is not what I call the sea. It is present. But it is not a place to go to. The beaches are filthy, the smells (not sea-ish but toxic) overpowering, and the water - well, its generally surmised that if you walk into the sea water of Mumbai you emerge with an extra head and few more digits.

The Sea is a place to relax. A place to 'dig your toes into the sand' to feel warm breeze laden with salt and water vapour wash over you, to let water lap over your feet. The sea is a place you go for a walk and emerge relaxed. Of course, one can go take a walk around Worli Sea Face (though not anymore thanks to construction work) but thats because its a safe height from the sea level and is totally sterilised by well made embankments and wide footpaths with seats for resting on.

The sea in Goa was like that. Present and available. The beaches inviting, ranging from the soft to the rocky. The breeze heavy and smelling faintly of the sea. And constant sound of splash of waves. I agree that looking out on to the sea and seeing fishing dinghies felt normal at some level, but it was definitely peaceful and different as it was relaxed. However, the feel of sand, the ability to walk into water, and the Beach-iness of it all was what made Goa the idyllic location different from Bomaby the work location, though both are seaside.

And I updated the look of my blog page. Quite different from what it was I must say - though I still feel the previous format allowed me a lot more flexibility to change certain features (like size of the columns, colour of links, stly of font and headings)....yet I think this is overall a much better looking page and colour coordination than I could personally manage over a couple of hours myself. Overall, I like it ^___^

Oh. And this post is just to inform you that I have changed the look :D

Today is a day I would like to remember. A claim of around Rs 20,000 (~US$500) has finally been processed and deposited to my account.

Details are as follows:
Date of claim - 13th March 2007
Reason - Relocation to Mumbai and the company
Today is 4th March, 2008.

I guess I should hand credit where it is due - the claim got processed in less than a year in a public limited efficient modern company. After red tape, innumerable STD phone calls, duplicate copies, duplicate original copies, daily follow ups and what-not.

Proves why one should be shameless when it comes to ones money. Am not letting got of even Rs 50 that company owes me henceforth. No one repaid me the interest on this amount, or for the mental anguish suffered. In certain countries Im sure I could have sued them, but this is India. Laws hold no sway, its people against people and only two powers are recognised - God and Human Resources.

I am simply happy to know the amount rests in my account and I wont have to battle for it when I would quit the company.

Money Talks.
It may not sing or dance,
Who cares whether it walks!
As long as I have it here with me,
I'd much rather be in my designer blue jeans!
(Sorry Neil D!)

The one thing I do not understand are transparent lies when they are not required. Building expecations and promising things when it would be much better to just say it will be delayed, or cannot be done.

Instances of this small thing is rampant in India. Its like the upper end of the Indian mentality of not saying "no". Like the shopkeeper who will say "Sorry, the last one just got sold". yeah sure!
Or the guy who says "Oh, Ill send it across today!" and then say "its in the courier office, will get dispatched tomorrow" Hey! it doesnt help. Id rather have you tell me that you will send it tomorrow evening and then send it today morning.
A very small thing, that can ruin your expectations and image of the other person. What they do not understand is, its a lie, where it is not needed. I am not against lying. No one human cannot not lie. Even animals do it. Lying comes from shame, from a need to escape embarrasment and sometimes from setting standards you are out to achieve ('I have a home theater system' when you have planned the purchase and WILL do it, just not now, maybe in a month, maybe even placed the order).
Simple white lies are also good enough. How are you? Just fine! when you are obviously unwell. Where were you? Out. When infact you had just decided not to answer the phone or mail, or anything.

But white lies which are misleading and unnecessary can get my goat. When there is no need for you to overpromise, why do it? If the client is giving you 3 months, why do you want to promise delivery in one month - and then delay it to 3? Wouldnt it be better to agree to the 3 months, or bring it down to a conservative 2, and deliver on time? That way the client can also plan his part of the process and not over-expect.

Usually I keep a buffer for just this when dealing with the self-employed merchants in India - the small desi businesses. However,sometimes its just not possible. And then, I end up flabbergasted...to say the least.

Special discount on Stocks! Please refer to the the BSE or NSE for details.

Offer may be valid for limited period.

Note:
No Guarantees regarding "low prices".
Sale in future months to depend upon various factors. Change in trends may cause sale to end prematurely or extend interminably.

How do you know years are passing by? When the following happen:

a) it becomes more and more difficult to distinguish between different groups of friends (college, school, ex-work). They all seem to be there since time immemorial, and you get surprised when the ex-colleague doesn't recognise your school mate's name.
b) when you talk about school, you get a reminiscent gleam in your eyes and talk about "those days" and "innocence" and forget about the tests, the bullying by parents and not having any money.
c) 'Party' means a couple of chosen friends sitting together sipping a mild drink and chatting, with minimal music. Preferably atop a divan, reclining, not on chairs, and even less - on barstools.
d) When midnight strikes, you raise a half hearted, mocking 'cheers' to the year ahead - just like any other, while actually eyeing the cake or the food.
e) While writing the date, you pause at the year column and think about 'those days' when Science Fiction novels used to imagine a brave new world by the present date - and consider how nothing seems to have changed. Except (f) [Remember Matrix? 1984?]
f) you look at technology and reminisce about the days when a B&W TV was major and VCR was cutting edge
g) when 90% of your friends are married and discuss the benefits of not/ having a baby. And try to convince you to get married (while extolling its negatives)
h) when suddenly, world news and history mean something. and resolutions, nothing.
i) When sitting up through the night means a long day ahead, unlike "those days" when you could live on a cup of caffiene only

Yeah, you know the years passed by - but you also know that you are the same. You know a new year in time concept came and went, but life goes on, and will. You become older and wiser and a little more equipped to deal with the world - even if that thought will be revised a decade from now.

I know 2007 passed for me. I have moved to a new city, after much fanfare and awaiting. I turned 26, and some of my frnds got married while others went the "family way". Another year lost in the vestiges of memory, leaving behind experience, nostalgia and a sense of...? A year where i lost some frnds and regained them and some more. A year of comparative docility with respect to extra curriculars, yet a lot in 'curriculum'.

And so I enter 2008. And I no longer wonder what it will bring for me. I only say, whatever comes, may it be good.

Came across this tool on the net, so decided to use it on a couple of websites I frequent for work (including my company site). Finally, decided to check on what it had to say about Dippyblogs. ^^
Here goes!

What are the chances that ComicZone is allowed but Diesel Sweeties is blocked by the server? Humph!

Anyway, in my varied experience, I have found that men like make-up. Especially if given a chance to experiment with it, once in a while. It is something that is so unique and unknown to them, that you can see the turn into curious kids when given a chance to use it. Even if it is something as simple as a flavoured lip balm.
No wonder we see the assendance of metrosexual men. Men who take the license to try out all those products - albeit in a different format.
More on this later when I get the chance ;)


And once again the debate on which is better - train or flight - came up. I personally, prefer a train journey, unless its a matter of a few days. But then there are those poor souls who think flights are better and comfortable! Well..its a long debate. But really...how can you compare them unless you are traveling J class.
Unless of course you are one of those weird people do not - use a public loo or similar stuff. Now thats plain ... weird.

Today my cabin is full of all its occupants. 4 of us right now, till the renovation completes in the adjacent building and half the floor can move there, enabling us to have desks in bays, like normal people. Till then, hello congestion!

So I chanced upon this website. Rather good limericks, and I love the theme :)

Apart from all that, I am kind of drowsy - the lunch was rather heavy. Hence, the idea which I meant to pen down is now lost, at least for the moment.

Every Management Guru says "Change is Good". So does every Lama, and almost any other prime religion.

So do I.

Especially when it comes to traveling by public transport. Then, 'change' is extremely good...and important.

To continue from yesterday. First things first. Heres a photograph of another one of those dainty fire alarm systems. Please note the only instructions present. You may also note that I did exactly as it said. It said 'Break Glass. Press Here' I did.


Now, to continue.
Well, I rushed into the pantry frantically trying to remember the Admin person's name. In the end I called up the Board.

Meanwhile I expected rushing feet, horrified coworkers running about, trying to evacuate and later, lots of questioning regarding that alarm.

Phone picked up. The lady there instantly recognised me.
Dips?
Yeah. The alarm?! (I gasped)
Its shut. (she singsongs)
You shut it?
Yeah! (singsong again)
Oh. Okay. Great. (I blunder)

Shaking, I picked up my cup of tea, looked at the mildly interested group sitting around the coffee table and make my way to my desk.

We Indians are a staid lot. Fire? We ask. Show me and I will believe you.
[I remember the last time there was a real fire. It was on the 3rd Floor, after 7 pm, people had flocked to check the reality, and even taken the stairs in the morning to satisfy themselves. The putrid smell along the stairs was not enough proof they said.
In Ahmedabad I remember when an under-construction building was blazing, everyone rushed to the nearest window and cheer the few with the fire extinguishers, while lamenting their inability to 'be there'. Clips and phototgraphs taken covertly were immediately circulated within the organization, and more people flocked the site.
Fire?! Bring it on! We want some.
Anyway, I meander.]

Next to my desk, the Chief Information Security Officer (CISO) looks up at me and smiles - 'Did you press the Fire Alarm' he jests.
I put down my tea, took a deep breath, contemplated repurcussions of owning up to the main person involved in the security measures, and said, very deliberately, "Yes."

The look on his face was worth watching.

So I recounted the episode to him, modifying it a little to save myself. He wholeheartedly agreed saying the glass was too thin, ergo, a replacement of vendor is required and a check of all the security systems in the company. *Dips is relieved and happy at her good fortune at getting away at least on one count*
Apparently the presence of a social organization in the same perimeter has resulted in no fire drill for some time, and glass breaking has caused another such alarm in the near past. Thus the instantaneous stopping of the alarm.

The Floor Security head popped in after a while. Was it you? He looks at me and laughs. Ermm... yeah?!
Oh..kay he grins. Dont do it again he admonishes and listens to the CISO recount my tale to him. He gives me another friendly grin and says 'dont touch that one again, well put it together with tape till the new vendor comes' and walks off laughing.
[That CISO is a good chap, all said and done]

A few minutes later, I get a call from the Board.
Dips?! You bad girl!!
what? What did I do now?
You dint tell me it was you who pressed the alarm
erm.. er,.. when?
When you called me stupid. You should have told me. I would have come down and listened to you. Now I missed it.
eh?
Must have been your nailpolish that made you do it. Red affinity to red you know *she chuckles*
*me laughing almost hysterically*
Next time you do it call me
But but. *i protest* I didnt mean to! It was accidental!
Liar! I saw it minutes before you came, I was standing right there. It was perfectly fine, sealed and new.
No! no  no... it was damaged, I try hard to convince her
Anyway! you tell me more about it later ok?!

I keep down the phone and see another co-worker looking at me absently while i try to wipe my eyes. Whats up? He says
er...fire alarm, you heard it?
What fire alarm?
You dint hear the blaring?
What blaring?
I picked up my tea.

Later I go to the loo, another colleague there, I told her the story.
Her response?

You lucky person!!! I wish I was there! Ive alwyas wanted to do that! How did you??! Now I wont be able to do anyhing for so long. Next time Ill take you along, ...

I walked away.

Sure it was fun. That panic was fun too.
I mean, in any other company I probably would be slaughtered for doing something like this, but here, it was practically unnoticed. I think.

Anyway, the point is, Ive always wanted to do something like this. It almost killed me for a few minutes. It was an awful risk in a staid corporate environment. It made every second last minutes. But I always wanted to do this. These fire hoses were tempting till we used them in IMI during Holi.
Now that I know what the siren is like and how to press the glass, Im Satisfied on this count too.

As for it being intentional or not, well, look at it this way. Everyday while on the phone at that spot, I would casually press it lightly, knowing that pressure will not break it.
Maybe all that accumulated pressure made the glass weak?
Maybe when you are in hurry, and excited, you do not realise your own strength?
Maybe, just maybe, I did what I was thinking of doing for quite some time?!

Whatever it is, I stay a meter away from any of those devices now. And thats final. Ive, so to say, Been There, Done That.

Meandering down from my boss' office, I picked up the phone of a credit card company and was idly chatting up (I sometimes do that if I have the time-makes the poor telecallers day to give me a loan of Rs10). Then I picked up the phone of a frnd, and ordered for a cup of tea from the pantry, heading that way.

Making a U-turn to complete a certain sentence, I idly contemplated the 'Break in case of Fire' red box with glass in between at the staircase junction. As usual, I run my fingers along it, passively contemplating the pressure required to break it, the utility of breaking it, the consequences, the ... oops! It broke. For a milisecond there (it felt like a minute), I waited. Silence. Bittersweet, i turned back to the conversation, when

BEEEBOOOOBEEEBOOOO...

I had pressed the button! the glass had broken! The silence was jarred! the ALARM was RINGING!!!!

With my heart in my mouth, I rushed to the pantry, to the nearest phone trying to remember the name of the admin woman who (I presumed) would have the alarm system button with her, to tell her its literally, a false alarm.
No one around could tell me her name!

I called #6. Reception....

More on the story later.
Including the allegation on my red nail paint

Sometimes the gender divide between men and women seems larger and wider than between Man and Animals.
And things show no sign of changing. Not in the near to medium future at least.
And that thought does not help.

Some time ago, I had written on jargons used in companies. Today, I read a blog on the net, which had reference to Business Cliches. I thought this was the right time to make a note of it on my esteemed page :)

This page not only lists some of the top cliches, it also has a link to some other sites which have dedicated themselves to the noteworthy cause of compiling some phrases used to the point of misuse in daily organizational life, especially by the 'coat-clad' in-duh-viduals.

there is not much that a basic office coffee-drinker wants. We do not hanker for brews and blends. All we want is a nice cup of caffiene in a presentably format, which suits our palates.
There is a subtle but remarkable difference between coffee that can be drunk and coffee that cannot be touched.
All we want is a coffee that can be touched, daily, on a monthly, if not yearly basis. I dont know why it is so difficult. I make almost the same brew everyday at home, and still enjoy it. year after year after year.

The things that go into instant coffee the world over remain the same. The coffee maker in the hotel rooms world over are a proof of that. You need water, a little coffee (from an off-the-counter jar), sugar and a little milk ( the last two being preferential). Ingredients for wonderful, rejuvinating, coffee. A cup that can last you for hours.

Seemingly, I am wrong. My tastebuds say so. Over and over again. All over India I have not managed to find palatable coffee except after specific instructions, even at a coffee shop known for coffee.

There is this maniacal urge of north and west Indian coffee makers to add oodles of milk and sugar and enough coffee to render it the colour of wheat husk. I had hoped that South India with its penchant for strong Filter Coffee would fare me better, but unfortunately thats not what I got in Hyderabad, in 5 places out of 6. In the 6th they just provided cold drinks - diet at that (which i personally hate. artificial sweeteners ruin my palate for hours). I got the same milky sugary brew. (The one time I got a decent brew, I was unable to drink it, merci my cold)

The Barista near my house is known for its coffee - though standard, but at least standard, coffee. I was totally disapointed yesterday by the lack of coffee in it. Even the waiter was guilt ridden when I sent back my cup to be fortified with more coffee, and lesser milk. Or water. Or whatever that was.

Coming back to office. Initially here we had the nice system where the pantry boy made a cup for you in the microwave. If he wasnt there, you made it for yourself.
however, apparently the load on the pantryboys increased. So, they isntalled a machine. So bad, that it increased the caffience consumption of the average person. I had two cups of great coffee in the whole day, but with the machine stuff, I needed one every few hours at least. Then the pantry boy designed a complicated but master art of creating a normal coffee out of a wicked combination of the foul extracts emanating from the machine.
unfortunately, I cannot expect the same concoction everytime it seems. The pantry boy dulls, and depending on his mood fouls up on the created art, refusing to perfect it to six sigma levels. No matter how I coax and praise him.
I would be happy to have milk, water, sugar and coffee at my disposal to make my particular manna as I want it, and leave my fellow colleague at peace to make his own. But companies seem to conspire against that.
I wonder, what is so expensive about a simple 5 rupee cupfull that can cause Admin departments to try cut budgets? What is so irking about a cup of coffee revitalising and invigorating workers from doing some quality work versus incoherent shit, that top management agrees to these cuts, while asking for 'a little special' concoction for themselves. What is so out of balance about a cup fully consumed even 3 times a day vs. a full cup of the brew thrown away untouched the same number of times? Hey! Employees are even ready to pay for a decent cuppa!

I wonder how bad can it get if the guest in your meeting asks for a cold drink after trying two varieties of your coffee. Some say the presence of toilet paper shows how well the company is doing (Dilbert). I say you can judge simply by the coffee served to you.

Exactly how I dont yet know, because as far as I can see, its always pathetic.

PS - no Rexzilla, I will not comment on the machine provided by your company. Its plain bribery to make employees stick.

There are some things in life you cannot go back on. Long hair being one of them. YOu start off pretty much by your parents' choice, and from the moment they decide you have to have long hair, you do. Then comes the time that you have the choice of cutting it short.
Contrary to the possible truth, long hair cannot be grown back once its shorn. For one, it becomes a huge task of patience. By the time you have cut your hair, you are comparatively conscious of the thing known as fashion. In which case, you do endeavour to look 'presentable' at most times. Thus, to have raggedly growing hair (which short hair does tends to be if untended) over a period of year/s (you do not get long hair overnight) is something that can try your patience.
Maintenance is another. Short hair. No matter how much you have to style it, you possibly dont have to spend as much on conditioners and hair clips as longer hair dudettes have to. To grow out your hair, you need to enter that cycle of 'when to wash hair', 'which conditioner to buy' and 'how to style it' a little more important, and a little more tedious to get into. Short hair - wash, dry, style. Which style is not necessary, because you can essentially follow only one. The price you pay for this convinience is a more ritualistic and regular trip to the hairdresser, which at the end of the day/ month is OK.
So, among a few things, short hair is easier to keep, and once you get that, its kind of difficult to get to  have long hair. So, even though its physically possible to have long hair once youve cut it short, its almost a one-way process.

Unless you pamper your patience with hair weaving and stuff.

It is an oft repeated topic of how bored we (meaning this generation) get, and how easily. I will not claim it untrue, though I will say, it depends on how often you are bombarded with same content.

A decade or so earlier news may have come to you twice a week, so you got bored of it an a month of two. today, if the same news comes twice a day (minimum) we cant really be blamed for getting bored within two weeks! infact, if you do the math, boredom after 16 viewings when compared with boredom against 28 viewings, with a daily dose is actually quite commendable.

Like most people who access the net, I have a number of feeds, and I have some websites I like to visit more often/ regularly. However, I have found that unless the content is widely varying, I take a break from visiting some of them for a couple of days/ weeks. Unless of course they have a wide variety, with innovative content whenever updated.

Another thing found perplexing sometimes is the need to update. It is a direct factor of the "I want more" syndrome of the end reader. However, that does not mean that one has to update even when there is nothing to update upon. It is fine to come up and say 'There is nothing to say today'. Pushing drivel for the reader to read, does reduce the esteem of the writer in the eyes of the reader, and in fact increases the chance of fickleness.

This "I want more" Syndrome apparently is something that this generation has cultivated. I beg to differ. Isnt the human mind forever hungry for more information? Didnt man, since time immemorial spend it trying to learn, read, talk, just to communicate and learn? With avenues available to learn faster and more, it is only natural that the demand also rises, each in their own spheres. For those who like Pulp, they want more pulp, those who want encyclopediac info...well, the net is open to them!

So, boredom and want have definitely been there, and will also be there. The point is just that the attention has increased on these points, and all because of higher avialability, which in itself is a wondrous thing.

Learning is a lifelong process. One can also revisit old things, which one was once bored of, yet not boring anymore. I do not think there is in this world less than enough to learn and then get bored of, by the end of ones lifetime. I may be wrong, but then, I might not.