tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60195552012-02-16T14:01:07.103-08:00Title self explanatoryDineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.comBlogger3221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-59665252607935237972010-04-24T07:16:00.000-07:002010-04-24T07:17:26.006-07:00

I have a blackberry :) - a gift from the wife

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-64331568754603989702010-04-19T07:10:00.000-07:002010-04-19T07:46:11.593-07:00

I've been guilty of not posting anything on my blog for close to a year...which is ghastly considering that its been a year filled with signicant moments : I bought my first car, fell in love and travelled abroad. I even managed to get married in the end.While it gnaws my soul to no end that I failed to chronicle anything, I can only offer one feeble excuse: Work. Work that began by gently

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-82511685281873906622009-05-22T05:46:00.000-07:002009-05-22T05:48:24.829-07:00

Read this and then this

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-77171068735888719182009-05-10T07:05:00.000-07:002009-05-10T21:33:47.468-07:00

Sitting in my car listening to “Ek Lau Is Tarah Kyun Bhuji Mere Maula…” , watching the wipers idly clean my windshield as the rain drops trickled down, I felt shiver of delight. It’s funny how music makes everything seem so poignant, so surreal. The yellow haze around the streetlights, the pedestrians scurrying towards shelter, the dog curled under a broken down truck, people with umbrellas

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-56275219908224449172009-05-02T20:31:00.000-07:002009-05-02T20:34:03.900-07:00

What I really do when I stay back late...

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-51442036861225749902009-04-05T00:55:00.000-07:002009-04-05T00:57:48.169-07:00

Before my sister and I went about cleaning out our house, I visualized myself writing a sentimental blog entry, an entry of remorse, of faded memories that came to life, of regret of a life that turned out different from what I’d imagined. We were after all going to rid the house of all the furniture, the vessels, the books, the photographs, the electronics, the clocks, the clothes, the curtains,

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-48666692306121046612009-01-07T08:39:00.000-08:002009-01-07T08:43:18.243-08:00

Introducing my best friend and brother, Ali :-)http://themonkwhosoldhismonastery.blogspot.com/

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-38393361850016990472009-01-02T21:10:00.000-08:002009-01-03T07:47:31.347-08:00

I knew I’d made a mistake by turning up at office on the 2’nd. Given that it was the Friday following New Years Eve, I only encountered lonely chairs and empty cubicles. In a way, the sight was a relief. While I’d often had doubts about my career choice after I joined an IT firm, I remembered this was why I opted for IT in the first place. If Thursday or a Tuesday was a holiday, you could be sure

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-44151744185099318052008-12-14T05:51:00.000-08:002008-12-14T05:55:54.053-08:00

I'm facing something of a mental block when it comes to writing something original. I think a lot of it has to do with the crazy long hours at work but I'm hoping it will clear soon. (Scary thought, am I a writer pretending to be an MBA? Or an MBA pretending to be a writer? Or do I suck equally at both?)Here's a speech by Bill Watterson that I love:OME THOUGHTS ON THE REAL WORLD BY ONE WHO

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-25291655643461149542008-11-07T19:46:00.000-08:002008-11-07T19:48:13.547-08:00

He took the words right out of my mouth...Click HereSigh...I'm old...

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-23848749766220030452008-10-07T02:40:00.000-07:002008-10-07T02:41:22.185-07:00

It looks like the next update could take a while. A certain lethargy has crept in. I’ve been in no mood to write for the last few weeks. Besides, these are difficult times for my family.I’m in Noida now, determinedly pushing for a transfer to Bangalore. Until that transfer I am going to remain in a state of suspended animation. After an extremely hectic initial couple of months, I’ve been

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-73302409545058480592008-10-03T07:48:00.001-07:002008-10-03T07:50:07.024-07:00

We watched as a group of young girls prodded the dead frog with a stick.“Poke it really hard! The blood will come out like a fountain!”“No, let’s beat it with a stone”“Are we going to kill it again?”“Lets call Akka and tell her we found the frog.”My sister turned to me and asked “You think I need to try and get pregnant again so that I get kids like these?”I didn’t have an answer.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-35848979897409346832008-10-02T11:06:00.000-07:002008-10-02T21:30:14.336-07:00

A nice video on the sub prime crisis. You've got to love British Humour :-).

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-75038597022070120862008-09-24T22:20:00.000-07:002008-09-24T22:44:02.304-07:00

This is a picture of my mother and father in England, just after they got married. Amma was not more than 21 years old at that time. Appa was about 28.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-89557864248979308952008-09-18T05:31:00.001-07:002008-09-18T05:44:45.281-07:00

so now what? Where do we go from here? I'm just tired, so very tired.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-22786296863657739462008-09-08T21:17:00.000-07:002008-09-08T21:23:37.789-07:00

In my fathers cupboard lie about dozen dhotis or veshtis as we call them. Faded white and mildly stained, they are fairly unremarkable in appearance. To a layman they might even appear to be flimsy, ageing bed sheets. They are soft and comforting to touch and as I walk, I can imagine the wind fluffing up the fabric as it brushes softly against my legs. There are few garments that can provide the

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-25520847735412120922008-08-20T03:31:00.000-07:002008-08-20T21:26:56.857-07:00

Go Waiter!

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-76396600056543981132008-08-10T01:58:00.000-07:002008-08-10T02:00:47.267-07:00

The 'Thotho' is a uniquely Bengali ceremony performed on the evening before the wedding. Representatives from the bride’s house visit the house of the groom’s in their best clothes, their arms laden with gifts. They cascade inside in endless cheerful waves, laughing, joking among themselves and loudly calling out greetings to everyone from behind the towering piles of gifts. A happy buzz fills

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-52430655441538561462008-08-06T06:36:00.000-07:002008-08-06T06:38:18.149-07:00

Apologies for not updating...I've been caught up at work and I do not have an internet connection at home. I'll try and post my next update by the weekend.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-73884201213500402692008-07-07T09:36:00.000-07:002008-07-07T10:03:59.744-07:00

When I look back now, at my arduous struggle with the national language, I must admit that I still have a long way to go. When in school my understanding of its vocabulary and grammar was so poor that my Hindi teacher labeled me an “Angrezi (Englishman)” and then washed her hands off me. With its complex rules on gender the language never ceased to seem alien to me. Thus each time an occasion

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-27234113961679580802008-07-04T19:23:00.000-07:002008-07-04T19:24:32.026-07:00

It’s been an eventful week. There are about fourteen management trainees and we’ve been more or less treated like royalty in the company. All the attention has frankly made us quite uncomfortable. Everywhere we go we are told that the organization expects a lot from us. However the exact role we have to play is still a little vague :-)We’ve been battered with psychometric tests; Tests on our

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-65604554334104721212008-06-29T11:20:00.000-07:002008-06-29T11:21:51.122-07:00

And thus my vacation comes to an end :-). I leave for Noida tomorrow to join work. I’m a little excited , a little anxious and a little sad…Wish me luck. I’m going to need it :-)

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-11413788119940813692008-06-26T17:43:00.001-07:002008-06-26T17:53:15.696-07:00

Part 3 (Please scroll down for the earlier parts)Winter came early to Ghaziabad that year. From strolling around in shorts and cut off vests and sweating into the bed at night there had been an imperceptible shift to full sleeved shirts and light sweaters. Blankets began to be pulled out from the cupboard. The roaring coolers without which the summer days and nights in the hostel had been

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-76108914469553068122008-06-21T10:15:00.001-07:002008-06-21T10:16:27.499-07:00

I have about 7 days to go before I join work and I must say I’m glad this vacation is coming to an end. Three and a half months is just a little too long to have to oneself. I have no regrets about the way I spent my time. I traveled all over the country, played tennis, spent time with family and friends, read dozens of books and wrote quite a bit. I’ve done a fair bit of introspecting too.It’s

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-69556721233276300822008-06-15T09:04:00.000-07:002008-06-16T23:50:55.030-07:00

Part 2 (Please scroll down for Part 1)If there were still any doubts about Mango’s sex, she put them to rest soon enough. Within a few weeks of setting foot on campus, she went into heat thereby drawing the unwarranted affection of every male dog within a radius of a kilometer. Nobody knows how they managed to enter the college grounds. Overnight IMT went from a relatively peaceful academic

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-13979044080612845762008-06-13T09:27:00.000-07:002008-06-13T09:40:33.866-07:00

(Note: During the last 6 months that I spent in college, I had a stray dog that comfortably shared my room with me. She was so much a part of my life that all my memories of IMT have bits of fur sticking to them. Considering that I am rather fond of her, I thought it would be inappropriate to write about her in one go. The blog entry would never end and could possibly bore the reader to tears.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-61952406046533940472008-06-11T09:15:00.001-07:002008-06-11T09:19:44.331-07:00

I've always had reservations about keeping a hit counter on my blog. After all, it can be quite depressing to login and see that not many people are visiting. However after four and a half years of putting it off, I have decided to bite the bullet. Thus you can see a new hit counter on the right. I also decided to see from which parts of the world my blog gets its traffic from. I picked up this

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-39029761711845290672008-06-10T23:27:00.001-07:002008-06-11T07:56:25.667-07:00

I had never consciously planned on getting here. I was never supposed to turn twenty five. What had happened? How did I stop being twenty four?I think twenty five is the age that you realize that you have begun your inevitable march towards adulthood. Prior to that every birthday is just what it’s supposed to be: a birthday – a cause for celebration and dinner with friends. Nothing more. You don’

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-64386828786480760522008-06-08T22:59:00.000-07:002008-06-08T23:55:49.183-07:00

Surprisingly, I felt completely at home in Mumbai. Considering I hadn’t visited the city in over a decade and had only vague memories of the same, weirdly enough it all felt reassuringly familiar when I got off the plane. I can’t quite put my finger on why.Mumbai is a restless city. It crackles with an infectious energy. I found it extremely uplifting just to walk the streets and watch people

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-52688968311501354332008-06-02T10:09:00.000-07:002008-06-02T10:32:33.602-07:00

The little priest was not so little anymore. In fact he more or less towered over me. From a height of 6”2, he sternly regarded me for a few moments before briefly nodding his head. My presence had been acknowledged. I smiled weakly in return.My first encounter with the little priest was about four years ago when I had to perform monthly rituals in the memory of my father. His father, the priest

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-15488736376436369512008-05-30T01:47:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:50.331-08:00

At Jo's Wedding

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-84218667832763781322008-05-29T18:01:00.000-07:002008-05-29T18:08:16.591-07:00

I had posted an old writeup of mine which involved underwear humour. Within a short period of time I received a comment asking me to take it down because it was in poor taste. Well I thought about it for a while and then finally decided that the person who left the comment was probably right. I don't normally remove posts once I've published them but this time I have made an exception :). I agree

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-90322891683974660732008-05-22T08:38:00.000-07:002008-05-22T08:41:47.311-07:00

This one by Russel Edson made me smile :-)Like a white snail the toilet slides into the living room, demanding to be loved.It is impossible, and we tender our sincerest regrets.In the book of the heart there is no mention made of plumbing.And though we have spent our intimacy many times with you, you belong to an unfortunate reference, which we would rather not embrace...The toilet slides out of

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-58272483793518552352008-05-10T11:15:00.000-07:002008-05-10T11:17:20.174-07:00

In my mind, I have neat little compartments into which I have slotted my past, my present and future. It helps me deal with all that’s happened. I can take a critical look at all my misfortunes, take a deep breath and say “What has happened has happened. You can’t change the past. Accept it and move on. The future is what you make of it”. Living in Bangalore has also helped a lot. With new

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-9719426786368421902008-04-30T21:13:00.000-07:002008-04-30T21:18:07.357-07:00

The Commodore 64 was the first computer my father owned. He bought it a couple of years before I was born and loved it dearly. It looked nothing like the computers we know today. There was no hard disk; instead it had to be booted using a large floppy disk. There was no monitor either; the setup had to be plugged into the TV. The operating system was neither Windows, nor Linux. It wasn’t even DOS

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-64820576921557143242008-04-27T05:59:00.000-07:002008-04-27T07:04:54.141-07:00

'Watch Out! We are MBA!'The title caught my eye the moment I entered the Crossword bookshop on Elgin Road. 'Caught my eye' is putting it rather mildly. Instead it scratched, bit and pummeled its way into my consciousness. Its title left nothing to doubt. One glimpse and I knew everything I had to know. Just another wannabe Indian author baiting clueless readers with the MBA tag. Of course it

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-58929355039052439592008-04-20T08:08:00.000-07:002008-04-20T08:34:52.413-07:00

The week sees me perspiring in Calcutta. I'm here for my cousin Prashant's wedding and I'm trying hard to get used to the feeling of the shirt sticking to my back. After experiencing a frigid Delhi winter, playing in the snow at Manali and then finally lazing around in Bangalore's mild weather, Calcutta's humidity makes me gasp.I'm also gasping because I cant believe Prashant is getting married.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-50516484735399051742008-04-13T08:47:00.000-07:002008-04-14T03:50:35.953-07:00

I’m sitting in a Café Coffee Day outlet sipping Irish coffee and watching the ice cream melt on a piece of apple pie that I’d ordered in a moment of weakness. Much to my disappointment the Irish coffee does not contain real whiskey as I’d hoped for, only a non-alcoholic variety. Having had only filter coffee or the foul tasting stuff found in Nescafe outlets all my life I’d always been eager to

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-66394244615475838542008-04-06T22:05:00.000-07:002008-04-06T22:11:36.270-07:00

When I turned 18 and tried to think of all my athletic accomplishments I realized I had absolutely none. Skinny, weak and quite timid I was hardly what you might call a talented sportsman. Deeply touched by James Thurber’s article on his sporting failures I sat down and reviewed my own history with sport. This was what came out of it:Throughout my junior school days, if there ever was anything

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-68209795142417830552008-04-06T03:46:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:50.671-08:00

This is essentially how I spent all my time in IMT

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-48865431758512556552008-04-01T22:27:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:50.850-08:00

Here's what I'm currently using to scare myself into writing everyday.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-35545537108944655682008-04-01T10:51:00.000-07:002008-04-01T21:01:35.044-07:00

Attempting to write a book tests the nerves quite a bit. Unlike a blog entry which is written in a moments inspiration, consciously penning down the words of a story is like pushing an elephant through slushy mud. I’m crawling through the pages; my mind wanders all the time and I shudder when I read what I’ve written. It’s so awful, I have a grimace permanently etched on my face. The scarcely

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-28303106262097132842008-03-30T11:20:00.000-07:002008-03-30T11:24:24.713-07:00

“I miss the gossip” moaned Jo on the phone. I listened quietly, nodding because I could feel her pain. “I miss the walks and the weird arguments we used to have” she continued reminiscing. You would have thought we were retired pensioners discussing the “good old days”. The truth was scarcely a week had passed since we’d left college.Jo and I first met when we came to give the interview for IMT’s

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-86966666210839297722008-03-24T22:58:00.000-07:002008-03-30T11:32:27.822-07:00

The period post IMT has been one of extreme disorientation. Time exists once again in discrete units. There is a sense of order. Monday ends when I go to bed at 11 PM and Tuesday begins when I wake up at 7. It was rather different at IMT. Day melted into night and night melted into day. We were always awake when the transition happened. A week was one long continuous event; in fact we rarely knew

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-16319088124423659902008-03-16T23:36:00.000-07:002008-03-17T00:35:00.300-07:00

When I first read Arbits farewell to MICA post, I gulped. I gulped because I knew that’s exactly how I’d feel when I left IMT. I have exactly 24 hours left before I receive my degree after which I will be politely asked to leave because the batch of 2006-2008 no longer belongs here. Sure they’ll give us some time to linger around but we all know that in a couple of days the last bags would have

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-12647860531186357302008-02-25T09:30:00.000-08:002008-02-27T10:50:13.935-08:00

Chupke se kahin, dheeme paaun sejaane kis tarah, kis ghadiaage badh gaye, humse raahon meinpar tum toh abhi thi yahinkuch bhi na suna, kab ka tha gilakaise keh diya alvida

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-67044752928705276852008-02-22T19:56:00.000-08:002008-12-11T06:08:51.629-08:00

The final semester at IMT. These are the best days of our lives :-)

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-60406533676216683632008-02-05T09:43:00.000-08:002008-04-01T21:03:54.826-07:00

At 9 PM, I made my way out of the hotel and into the street. I was going to receive my mother who wanted to spend a weekend with me before she left for Chennai for the start of the next academic year at school. Hotel Shakti Paradise was one of the several lodging establishments that dotted the narrow winding road that led to the highway. Two stories high and painted a dull white, it was quite

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-84835240523283454432008-01-02T07:24:00.000-08:002008-01-03T07:51:37.528-08:00

Having been brought up in a typical middle class household, three basic tenets were drilled into my head from the day I could comprehend basic sentences: 1.I should not smoke for it is evil2.I should not drink as it is just as evil3.I should remain a vegetarian because that was simply the sensible thing to doThere was no religious fervor in my parents instructions. My parents had never attempted

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-15885975845099537102007-12-24T05:30:00.001-08:002007-12-24T05:35:11.433-08:00

I was going through some of my old writing, things I’d written before I began blogging when I came across one that described my home in a way that made me smile. While the humor may seem childish now, I love it because it was written in a time of innocence. While my home may be silent now, I’ll always remember the way it used to be. Some of you may have read it before. Here’s to you Amma and

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-18075771286053290472007-12-22T10:38:00.001-08:002007-12-22T10:38:55.751-08:00

Placements have whizzed by and I find myself with a job in the IT industry...and for some reason I don't feel anything. My placement was supposed to be the climax of an arduous yet thrilling journey, starting from the time I decided to prepare for the CAT in 2003 to the time I shook hands with the interviewers and accepted the job offer. Try as I might to congratulate myself for having survived a

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-7910545450217166822007-11-28T22:06:00.000-08:002008-12-11T06:08:51.986-08:00

With my roomie (The original one spends far too much time in the library to qualify)

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-3729099117382648812007-11-24T20:58:00.000-08:002007-11-24T21:03:25.564-08:00

It’s a pleasantly chilly winter morning, the kind where it’s nice to be snuggly wrapped up in a quilt in bed. The dawn finds me enveloped in a warm glow of happiness. There’s no particular reason for the smile, I’m just in a good mood.Yesterday I went out with my friends to the trade fair at Delhi. Despite the fact that we almost got squished in the stampede to the entrance we still emerged from

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-76792917774306752802007-11-17T08:35:00.003-08:002007-11-17T08:39:51.136-08:00

Random Thoughts on a chilly winter evening:1) Leaky nose, rasping cough, head filled with lead and a stomach that is gloriously upset, I want to go home.2) The room smells so much better after I washed 16 toxic pairs of socks in one go. I managed to survive so far because of a partially blocked nose. My roomie spent the last week in the neighboring room.3) The dog keeps following me around. She

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-12987326499098621692007-11-10T11:23:00.000-08:002007-11-11T11:12:03.708-08:00

The scent of placements is in the air. It was mild to begin with but as every day passes more and more students have begun to sniff around with interest. The Economic Times has been much in demand off late and the library has begun seeing some new faces. Books are being dusted and examined more intently. Small groups of people have also started meeting secretly to discuss current affairs. Its

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-91100906592072816132007-11-04T10:48:00.000-08:002007-11-05T06:32:17.219-08:00

IBCD is four years old. In the last four years I have experienced love, unemployment, employment, death and heartbreak and managed to survive so far with my soul reasonably intact and a fond hope for a sunnier future. IBCD has been with me all along, a canvas on which I have liberally smeared my emotions, my thoughts, my dreams, and my ego. Whether the picture that has emerged is pleasing is

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-78616816313833842922007-10-19T21:03:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:53.682-08:00

Ali and I ended up as the runners up at the BT Acumen North Zone Debate competition. We were among the 4 teams that made it out of 32 to the finals. We didn’t win the final but both of us are reasonably pleased with the way things turned out. This was my first time at a really high profile event. It’s a pity that Ali and I found out that we were a pretty good debating team so late in the year. If

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-91564280863078214262007-10-02T13:08:00.000-07:002007-10-02T13:12:22.589-07:00

Random Jottings from Chennai1)Flying is indeed for everyone one now. At the Delhi airport I caught sight of a large and raucous procession of people obviously from some small village in Tamil Nadu. Leading them was a man with long wild hair and a fierce unkempt beard. His dhoti was old and faded and his shirt was open till the stomach, revealing a rainforest on his chest. My heart melted when his

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-44197487230229098732007-09-24T14:17:00.003-07:002007-09-24T22:59:39.813-07:00

I ran away from home on June 24th, two weeks after my mother passed away. I ran away from Dinesh Devarajan, the grieving son of Late Dr.V Devarajan and Late.Mrs Praveena Devarajan and ran towards DD, so called comedian and flirt who hit shamelessly on all women much to the amusement of those who occupied IMT. I left behind an empty house and occupied room number I-8 and as roommate of Ankur

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-20920821176113842672007-09-09T05:55:00.001-07:002007-09-09T05:55:48.976-07:00

IMT has been taken over by the first years. Like some sort of Blitzkrieg they have swarmed all over the campus, making themselves at home much to the dislike of us weary seniors. They’re everywhere, you cant move around without suddenly finding yourself in the midst of a annoyingly cheerful crowd of achievers. They spend an exasperating amount of time in the library striving hard to understand

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-79900332648778053602007-09-09T01:25:00.000-07:002007-09-09T10:00:23.608-07:00

To someone who loves popcorn...So you sailed awayInto a grey sky morningNow I'm here to stayLove can be so boringNothing's quite the same nowI just say your name nowBut it's not so badYou're only the best I ever hadYou don't want me backYou're just the best I ever hadSo you stole my worldNow I'm just a phonyRemembering the girlLeaves me down and lonelySend it in a letterMake yourself feel

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-18628425103291698752007-09-02T09:39:00.000-07:002007-09-02T09:41:37.692-07:00

Growing a french beard is a lot like dating a loser. Nobody's happy that you are doing it."Take it off/break it off", they tell you. "You'd listen to us if you knew what was good for you" they mutter. You smile and let them talk. For they dont see what you see...

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-40718281512779814142007-08-27T04:25:00.000-07:002007-09-16T01:45:12.934-07:00

The second year had brought with it its own blessings and miseries. The 8:30 AM class was abolished much to the relief of the nocturnal MBA. However we now had a class at 2:15 PM – right after lunch, an hour where most of us where stupefied to stupidity.Today the post lunch session was to be handled by G.D.S who would explain the intricacies of supply chain management. G.D.S was old, competent,

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-5772142360492460812007-08-18T20:53:00.001-07:002007-08-18T21:21:44.723-07:00

An infected ear has left me unable to write this week. For the last seven days I have been sullen, moody,irritable and just incapable of penning my thoughts. Its hard to describe just how much self control I have had to exercise to prevent myself from grabbing a sharp pencil, sticking it into my ear and giving myself a frantic and soul satisfying scratch. After much cajoling from my friends I

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-7365473749152911732007-08-12T20:55:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:54.071-08:00

This pic was taken by my dad hours after I was born. It remains one of my favourite.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-49904281616914776502007-08-12T12:00:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:54.309-08:00

At 6 AM the cell phone alarm comes to life. It seeps through the velvety layers of sleep that swathe my mind and rings timidly at the ear of my consciousness. I ignore it. Alarms come and alarms go but a good nights sleep is hard to come by in IMT. Besides I always set the alarm an hour before I have to actually wake up. I choose to do so that I may drift in that delicious semi conscious state

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-69206108798083981942007-08-10T23:49:00.000-07:002007-08-10T23:56:29.471-07:00

I have spent this semester consciously avoiding any activities that threaten to add value to my resume. Instead I have tried to become a little more disciplined in activities that make me feel good. Perhaps discipline and feel good don’t go well together but I have realized that if I am ever to write that book then I must write everyday and not just when in the mood.What I will try to do is write

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-88287892654714962832007-08-10T21:20:00.000-07:002007-08-11T00:12:00.634-07:00

God help me, I'm an MBA who1) will not read the Economic Times even if he was paid to2) would much rather read Malgudi Days than Jack Welch3) thinks Kotler is just a book with of lots of colour pictures4) will shoot anybody who utters the words "Segmenting, Targeting and Positioning"5) would rather sell his soul to the devil than take up a sales position in a firm6) wonders why MBA's should ever

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-62245405890098319092007-07-26T10:52:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:54.665-08:00

Would you employ this man?

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-65154509318104094092007-07-17T11:34:00.000-07:002008-12-11T06:08:54.871-08:00

I've been having a good time at IMT since I got back. Somehow things like CGPA, placements, Job Profile, etc which worried me so much before all seem trivial in the larger scheme of things. The last 3 years have been very cruel in terms of the amount of hurt and pain that I've been forced to bear. The people around whom my life orbited have all left leaving me a little clueless of who I am and

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-87177634360253473772007-06-29T20:16:00.000-07:002007-06-30T07:46:03.375-07:00

I think Bruce Springsteen's song "Your Missing" perfectly captures what my family(or whats left of it) is going through. Lyrics Below...Shirts in the closet, shoes in the hallMama's in the kitchen, baby and allEverything is everythingEverything is everythingBut you're missingCoffee cups on the counter, jackets on the chairPapers on the doorstep, you're not thereEverything is everythingEverything

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-11589422990000929312007-06-10T06:31:00.000-07:002007-06-10T06:34:18.957-07:00

Because I do not have the words now... TributeThank you so much Anand.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-62072747484266484742007-05-24T07:38:00.000-07:002007-05-24T07:48:49.649-07:00

As usual, I was completely wrong about haveing free time. I am currently touring far and scattered villages in interior Tamil Nadu selling candy at all roadside shops as part of my summer internship. I am also working on "The Life and Times of a Troubled Candy Salesman" on the side. Wish me luck because my project is going absolutely nowhere and yet in 2 weeks time, I am supposed to convince the

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-10766836114266938972007-04-11T09:30:00.000-07:002007-04-11T19:22:25.717-07:00

Two semesters at IMT had worn me out. I led a wild existence, going to bed at two AM, being woken up again at three AM for a project or committee meeting and then crashing into bed at around six, only to have the alarm shrieking by eight. Breakfast would be eaten in a daze and then I’d go into a coma in class. I’d stare glassily at various lecturers who inhabited the podium for an hour and half

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-29209067245082894662007-04-10T23:59:00.000-07:002007-04-11T05:00:38.000-07:00

My first year at IMT has drawn to an end. I shall now make my way to Bangalore for a two month long summer internship. I will be doing the same at a rather famous candy company and as part of my project I shall be studying the gloriously exciting market of mouth freshners.Yes, I am aware that a lot of you are amused and I dont blame you. I spent 2 years writing code for an american investment

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-40915178708359278392007-03-13T11:09:00.000-07:002007-03-13T11:15:38.080-07:00

At 1:30 the professor wraps up the lecture and dismisses us. I’m relieved that the class is over. For the last two hours we had waded through a mucky case study involving predicting cash flows after an ERP implementation. The enormous excel sheet that covered the wall from end to end gave me the willies. I make a mental note to avoid all finance electives next year.Deepa and I emerge from the

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-21205106596415267332007-03-10T19:18:00.000-08:002007-03-10T19:20:55.186-08:00

Here's a song I've been humming for the last couple of days. Its from "Music and Lyrics". Watch it if you can, its pretty cute.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-24700492036025954732007-03-04T11:19:00.000-08:002007-03-04T11:23:42.265-08:00

Its 8:30 PM and I’m sitting in the mess in front of the recently purchased flat screen TV. Its enormous and the sound emanating from the speakers collides violently with the din made by future corporate leaders fighting like savages as they queue up for dinner. There’s no time for elegance and etiquette, you either fight like a mad man for your chappati or end up with nothing but plain rice and a

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-91969443008143450502007-02-17T09:22:00.000-08:002007-02-17T09:25:34.713-08:00

Today I became a celebrity. I was part of a discussion on the railway budget on CNBC Awaaz. Granted I contributed nothing significant but now the entire nation gets to see me looking intelligently at the camera for one hour. It was my first time in a TV studio and it made me feel very important. I’ve never seen myself on television except at weddings where they take videos of you eating. These

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-31588843585039115892007-02-09T01:05:00.000-08:002007-02-15T01:24:59.038-08:00

My friend Ali and I won the 2'nd prize at the IIT Kharagpur Corporate Debate :-). Its the first time we have won outside IMT as a team. I certainly hope we win a lot more in the future.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-7923561949907092022007-01-12T20:38:00.000-08:002008-12-11T06:08:55.784-08:00

IMT has very pretty campus. Here's a nice shot of the amphi...

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-52631151630361706952006-12-24T07:10:00.000-08:002006-12-24T07:15:02.347-08:00

I'm afraid I've been silent on the blogging front. I'd love to tell you that I've been too busy to blog...but then I'd be lying. As an MBA, I am prone to frequent bursts of frenzied activity, true but then I do have time to do other things too...its just that when I do have the time I dont feel like writing at all. I need something like an exam or a project presentation to be made tommorow to

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1164992383055175162006-12-01T08:54:00.000-08:002006-12-01T09:03:57.446-08:00

This is an ad I shot for an event at a B school competition in Delhi.Its an ad for a product that deodorises smelly shoes. Do let me know what you think of it.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1163435342628073942006-11-13T08:29:00.000-08:002006-11-13T08:32:43.260-08:00

Dirty Dancin@IMTWe all suck at dancing...but hey its fun!P.S: Turn up the volume

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1162625545512055462006-11-03T23:30:00.000-08:002006-11-03T23:32:25.536-08:00

Dancin' little marionetteAre you happy now?Where do you go when you're lonely?Where do you go when you're blue?Where do you go when you're lonely?I only wish I could follow you

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1161807800953484712006-10-25T13:22:00.000-07:002006-10-25T13:23:21.026-07:00

In fond memory of Cocoa...February 14'th, 4 PM. No women, no romance, no candle lit dinners, no dreamy looks, no intimacy,no passion, no hugs, no moonlight walks, no Eros,no Cupid, no Amor,no Venus, no Aphrodite,no Kama. No sir, all I had was a dogs ass.A rather unpleasant sight to behold when your in the middle of a cricket match and a dog is lying placidly in the middle of the pitch and chewing

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1161618937468855412006-10-23T08:55:00.000-07:002006-10-23T08:55:37.566-07:00

I'd sent a writeup to the Hindu Business Line about a month back and they never got back to me. Thus I was a bit surprised to find out that it had actually been published. Here's the link to it. Its been edited quite a bit however the original remains on my blog.Hindu Business Line Article

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1158559832101505492006-09-17T23:06:00.000-07:002006-09-17T23:10:32.126-07:00

My orkut fortune for sunday said "You will pass a difficult test that will make you happier".Well, I took the test...but has it made me happier? Only time will tell.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1158470233706394972006-09-16T20:56:00.000-07:002006-09-16T22:17:13.993-07:00

It’s a hot and sweaty Saturday morning and I'm standing at the gate of the institute, waiting for an important alumnus to arrive for a meeting. Being part of the alumni committee has lots of perks but this isn’t one of them. The alumnus had said he’d be here in ten minutes. That was over an hour back and I curse my luck as the full sleeve formal shirt complete with a tie gently cooks my body to

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1158154089681775302006-09-13T06:18:00.001-07:002006-09-13T06:51:00.353-07:00

The song that haunts the corridors of IMT and now my room...tere bin main yun kaise jiyakaise jiya tere bintere bin main yun kaise jiyakaise jiya tere binlekar yaad teri raaten meri kati - 2mujhse baaten teri karti hai chaandanitanha hai tujh bin raaten meri din mere din ke jaise nahitanha badan tanha hai ruh nam meri aankhen raheaaja mere ab rubarujeena nahi bin teretere bin main yun kaise

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1157828298756803992006-09-09T11:54:00.000-07:002006-09-09T11:58:18.786-07:00

I'm home!However my biological clock is on IMT time. I slept through the entire day and woke up late in the evening.Its 12:30 AM now and I feel fresh and ready to take on any challenge...but I'm alone..everyone else is asleep.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1157817393545451812006-09-09T08:55:00.000-07:002006-09-09T08:56:33.576-07:00

Fresher's party at IMT....

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1157300755383887892006-09-03T09:20:00.000-07:002006-09-03T09:25:55.420-07:00

I'll be going home for 4 days this friday, I cant wait!As much as I crib about the life here, I've actually had a really good time. The pace of life and trying to be a 4 places at the same time does get to me, but its been a really nice experience.Right now I look forward to filter coffee(Not Nescafe cat piss), rasam sadam, thair sadam, no phone calls at 2 in the morning("Can you come to my room

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1156792830239007652006-08-28T12:19:00.000-07:002006-08-28T12:20:30.283-07:00

Being in a B school keeps you on your toes. I’m always running around and doing so many things I completely lose track of why I’m actually doing the thing I’m doing. I’m having trouble prioritizing things. Do I study for the quiz or head for the alcom room to make my calls? Do I attend the meeting for the OB project or attend the meeting for the marketing project? Do I figure out how to make a

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1156584577624608702006-08-26T02:29:00.000-07:002006-08-26T02:29:37.653-07:00

At the end of 3 weeks, we were a limp demoralized lot. The faculty had taken pity on us initially and hadn’t objected too much to our corpse impersonations in class. As the weeks went by however they became more and more irritable and took to prodding those of who drooled on the table, far away in their own sweet world where no senior would bang on the door at 4 in the morning.Now we found it

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1156049742145315572006-08-19T21:54:00.000-07:002006-08-19T22:10:55.220-07:00

I spent the first week of my life at IMT leading the life of a hunted animal. I wasn’t alone in my misery; every first year student at IMT will have the memory seared in his brain forever.Every morning we would be woken up at 6 to attend yoga. We would bend, stretch and groan until 7:30. After which we’d be given an hour to bathe, have breakfast and attend class. For the first time in my life, I

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1155446151115521172006-08-12T22:13:00.000-07:002006-08-17T10:35:41.580-07:00

I havent got around to really writing about my experiences at IMT yet but my friend Kshitij has taken out the time to do so:introduction-of-charactersNeedless to say I'm pretty flattered with his description of me :-P

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1154107042998773892006-07-28T10:10:00.001-07:002006-07-28T10:28:07.593-07:00

Its been a month at IMT. One month of consuming nothing but chappatis, panneer, rajma, daal and holy mother of god, about a billion kilos of potato. Right now I'd just kill for a plate of this...A more detailed post on my life here in the last month will follow soon.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1152627052404506272006-07-11T07:08:00.000-07:002006-07-11T07:10:52.430-07:00

Many apologies for this very delayed update. My life has been a blur in the last couple of weeks. I havent slept since I entered the IMT campus. Will give more details once things slow down a bit.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019555.post-1151079218910466272006-06-23T21:40:00.000-07:002006-06-23T09:44:29.183-07:00

At around 6 PM, Balaji, Arnab and I decided to take a break from work and headed for the pantry. Balaji and I munched on our egg puffs while Arnab sipped his tea. I normally avoided coffee and tea because even after two years, I still hadn’t mastered the art of holding a thin paper cup filled with scalding liquid. For the life of me, I couldn’t drink something that hot in less than two minutes.

Dineshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527289197960509947noreply@blogger.com9