Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Before the ink dries

Paul is dead.

The psycho psychic octopus silly..... I'm not grieving a dead love or something.

And in case you'd like to refresh your memory, here he is.

The hype and hoopla surrounding this particular cephalopod was understandable..... after all, what are the odds of getting an entire series of game winners right, time and again?

What got me to post today was something else, though.....

True to form, the media has played up the 'tragic passing' bit ..... But as far as I know, the Malayala Manorama is the only paper to devote 25% of the front page to it!

Am too busy thanking God though.....

....last I heard, there wasn't anything about Paul's 'Malayali connection' in that article.

For the uninitiated, the Malayala Manorama's made a fine art of digging into a celebrity's past and coming up with the sole recorded (E.g.: In Timbuktu, in 1878....) instance of his/her passing within a kilometer of a Mallu. And if there were any head nods or hi-hello's, things automatically progress to deep and long relationship with Kerala status. You can imagine how it takes on a soul-connection twist if there's some back-slapping involved.

And as far as I can remember, Osama (yep, him of the bomb-slinging, cave video-making fame) is the only other living being of global repute to escape the net.

As for Paul, there's still time.

Time enough to dig out a Joji/Kader/Biju who took care of/ cradled in his arms/nearly fried/wept for Paul.

I'll be watching that front page.


Monday, October 4, 2010

Enna Koduma Saar Ithu?!?!?!

I’m a coupla months into the new job now, and all’s well so far. Please note that the operative phrase is ‘so far’. :) And the next time someone asks you, it IS true..... Switching to classroom mode is near impossible after you’ve gotten used to an office routine.

Yours truly finds her head swaying dangerously within twenty minutes of starting a class, like she’s a teetering coconut tree/pissed drunk/a hired cabaret dancer/whatever….Zzzz!!

No, that wasn’t supposed to make sense.

The net result is that my similarly fresh-in-the-system colleagues get some free entertainment at my expense. They think that my eyeballs drifting in opposite directions are a treat to behold. Well, I guess you gotta keep yourself entertained when there isn’t one remotely cute guy in the vicinity.

Change that to ‘one guy on the right side of forty’.

Gloom. :'((


Anyway, this post is to commemorate the fact that I’ll always find a proverbial haddi in the kabab platter that I call my professional life.

The haddi in this case is a trainer who periodically saddles bestows his excruciating self on an unsuspecting batch. Dude’s a doctorate holder in Management who, quite interestingly, treats MBAs like the scum of the earth. The cherry on top is that he also can’t stand private commercial banks and everything they stand for.... that should give you a good idea of where I stand in his version of the professional food chain. ;P

The only definite ‘learning’ I can boast of after his sessions is that I’ve indefinitely postponed all plans of entering the academic side of management. I swear I haven’t come across a more pompous know-all. All of us are secure in the knowledge that nothing we can ever say or do is correct or astounding enough for his liking.

Add to that the fact that his name sounds almost exactly like popular lingo for the posterior.

Cackle, cackle!!!>;-D

Note: Despite the jibes this IS a lament of sorts.

FYI, the Zahra Code of Conduct is explicitly against ridiculing accents and poor grammar, but the rules were amended recently to exempt bombastic profs who pretend to know everything and massacre the language too.

Aadiyo-vishwal taarchur yat its best-eye-sayyy....

Here’s a sampler…. Read aloud for maximum effect.

Prof: Yinn dhee kaanteksht aaff this try-ning, yoo are yekspected to no dhee sigh-nergeezz aaff bizznuss praacess.....

Zahra: Eh?? Vaat-yoo aar saiyying-eye-say....

Prof: ....Akkaarding tuyoo, vaat dhees sigh-nergee eess?

Colleague: (Fairly coherent answer)

Prof: Oooaahh…..vyyy yoowall aar taalkingg lik-eh vanilla yumbeeyaayys?? Yinn yuwar carriers (sic) widh-dhees UFO (Unidentified Financial Organization) yoo shudd gobee yondha sir-faze aaff yish-shoes....(proceeds to repeat colleague’s points under the guise of the correct answer) ....blah blah blah.

Zahra: Hai bhagwan, main vanilla se tutti-frutti kab banoongi? :-/

Prof: Drone, drone....shaaar yuwar yuck-speriyenss with the group no? Yennydhingg yoowandoo shaar?

Zahra: Vaat....I mean...what? Err...Ummm....(How about “I’m a recovering alcoholic”?)

Note: “Yuck”-speriyenss is closer to the truth than he thinks.

Zahra: (Gas, globe and gyaan. All delivered at the speed of....well...sound.)

Well, whaddya expect??? I'm an MBA, okay??

Prof: (Gas, globe, and gyaan....to the effect that Zahra is a prime example of a useless product of a useless management education system, with a useless commercial bank ex-employer to boot....)

Zahra: Sighhhh....can’t win ‘em all y’know....

The fact that I narrowly missed being interviewed by this man is proof enough for me that there is a God AND He luuuuuuuuuuvvs me :D

The second point in favor of that claim is that my current boss is a person who’s actually got a reputation for being sane. And all that I’ve seen so far confirms it….. yeah, it’s too early to tell, but who cares?? Carpe diem, folks!!!

Interesting aside: Trainer dude keeps sporting a series of grimaces while talking....I first thought he was in physical pain, but then realized that it was an indicator of the seriousness of the topic.

On second thoughts, it could actually be a bad case of hemorrhoids.

Tricky things, these.

Prof: Dhink shtraaatejickalee....dhink lie-kku seenyur maan-age-urrrssss....bakwaas bakwaas bakwaas.....

Zahra: Yes, yes, I swear I will....but for the love of God, let us go!!

Finally, the class ends…or rather, is forcibly ended by a bunch of cranky, irritated, new recruits on various pretexts.

And so we live (barely just) to fight another day.

Not that we particularly want to.