Friends say I am too much of a cynic for my own good. So living upto my rep
Making a living out of demotivating others :-)
Friday, October 23, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Moving on
Had been over to an old friend's place over the weekend, helping her parents pack - my last trip to her house in fact. Well actually, this friend has long since moved bag and baggage to the US, but I continued to be an irregular visitor to her place. The initial visits had me playing the role of a postman, this was the pre-Internet era when the landline was your only means of communication with the outside world. I had a VSNL connection and would shoot off mails regularly to my friend, who would in turn use me as her customised 'Ask Jeeves' search engine
- Can you check with Amma why my Rasam doesn't out as spicy (dolt, how can u go wrong with Amma's rasam podi, I'd be tempted to scream)
- My throat keeps getting worse, what do I do?
- Ask Amma to send some Sambar and Molaga podi, Sriram is flying out next week (Sriram who? would be met with a cryptic - Roll no.27, first ranker, glasses poduva, duhh..., and how was any of that supposed to help)
- Rema, X has asked me out, damn, I don't have anything to wear
- Think my grades are gonna be bad, just not prepared
Those mails ensured I'd land up at her home every once in a while. Her Mom would stir up the best coffee while I plied her with colourful stories - dorm incidents, pics of her daughter's first trip to California, her first road trip, campus capers. After the first year, slowly but surely, the interval between her mails started increasing exponentially - I got busy with my non-existent career and she got busy juggling between the afore mentioned X (now her hubby) and her studies (Update - she insists the order should be reversed :) And my visits to her house also decreased - I'd meet her Mom at the park sometimes, where she'd come for her morning stroll, and we'd discuss common friends. My visits were restricted to functions or when I felt low and needed her tongue-tingling rasam to wash away my blues.
She had recently been to the US to meet her daughter and son-in-law but the climate did nothing for her arthritis affected knees. She came back and declared - That place is inhospitable, it snows there, wonder how anybody can stay there :) The neighbours don't even talk to each other, the list of complaints was interminable - I happily dug into my second helping of sweet rice as she rattled on. Uncle's only contribution to the conv. was 'X is a good boy'. I nearly fell off my chair, jeez, X had achieved in 1 month what I hadn't achieved in years - gotten into Uncle's good books.
Uncle retired a month ago and they decided to go back to Chennai, back to their roots - Bombay had always been a career choice, it was never home. And so we sit huddled, deciding which artifacts need to be retained and which discarded from the mind boggling collection of knick-knacks people collect over the years - a box full of albums - school snaps, slam books, old birthday gifts, her letters home. Uncle is busy calling up the MTNL guys, the Mahanagar gas chappies - methodical as always, nothing could harry him.
As we stood at the airport, saying goodbyes, Uncle hugged me and said - You have been more of a daughter than a friend to the two of us over the last few years. I'd never ever seen Uncle getting emotional - there's some truth in the phrase 'There's always a first time'. Felt a pang of guilt as I tried to count the number of times I had visited them over the last few months, never realizing how much each visit meant to them.
I called up my friend from the airport and told her I'd never felt half as bad when she left Bombay. And as always it was her hubby who had the last word - Rema, they'll miss us for a few days but life will go on. Each one of us has to move on, some in search of careers, some in search of a better life, but move on you must. Like hell. Damn, hate bankers and hate airports - the first species spout logic when u are in no mood to listen and the second has flights running on time when u'd like to spend some more time with loved ones.
- Can you check with Amma why my Rasam doesn't out as spicy (dolt, how can u go wrong with Amma's rasam podi, I'd be tempted to scream)
- My throat keeps getting worse, what do I do?
- Ask Amma to send some Sambar and Molaga podi, Sriram is flying out next week (Sriram who? would be met with a cryptic - Roll no.27, first ranker, glasses poduva, duhh..., and how was any of that supposed to help)
- Rema, X has asked me out, damn, I don't have anything to wear
- Think my grades are gonna be bad, just not prepared
Those mails ensured I'd land up at her home every once in a while. Her Mom would stir up the best coffee while I plied her with colourful stories - dorm incidents, pics of her daughter's first trip to California, her first road trip, campus capers. After the first year, slowly but surely, the interval between her mails started increasing exponentially - I got busy with my non-existent career and she got busy juggling between the afore mentioned X (now her hubby) and her studies (Update - she insists the order should be reversed :) And my visits to her house also decreased - I'd meet her Mom at the park sometimes, where she'd come for her morning stroll, and we'd discuss common friends. My visits were restricted to functions or when I felt low and needed her tongue-tingling rasam to wash away my blues.
She had recently been to the US to meet her daughter and son-in-law but the climate did nothing for her arthritis affected knees. She came back and declared - That place is inhospitable, it snows there, wonder how anybody can stay there :) The neighbours don't even talk to each other, the list of complaints was interminable - I happily dug into my second helping of sweet rice as she rattled on. Uncle's only contribution to the conv. was 'X is a good boy'. I nearly fell off my chair, jeez, X had achieved in 1 month what I hadn't achieved in years - gotten into Uncle's good books.
Uncle retired a month ago and they decided to go back to Chennai, back to their roots - Bombay had always been a career choice, it was never home. And so we sit huddled, deciding which artifacts need to be retained and which discarded from the mind boggling collection of knick-knacks people collect over the years - a box full of albums - school snaps, slam books, old birthday gifts, her letters home. Uncle is busy calling up the MTNL guys, the Mahanagar gas chappies - methodical as always, nothing could harry him.
As we stood at the airport, saying goodbyes, Uncle hugged me and said - You have been more of a daughter than a friend to the two of us over the last few years. I'd never ever seen Uncle getting emotional - there's some truth in the phrase 'There's always a first time'. Felt a pang of guilt as I tried to count the number of times I had visited them over the last few months, never realizing how much each visit meant to them.
I called up my friend from the airport and told her I'd never felt half as bad when she left Bombay. And as always it was her hubby who had the last word - Rema, they'll miss us for a few days but life will go on. Each one of us has to move on, some in search of careers, some in search of a better life, but move on you must. Like hell. Damn, hate bankers and hate airports - the first species spout logic when u are in no mood to listen and the second has flights running on time when u'd like to spend some more time with loved ones.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Come tomorrow
Over the past couple of months, commuting to & fro from work has been a never ending series of traffic jams. Waiting patiently for the traffic to clear teaches u the art of zen, the way no other teacher can. And so day after day, I stand patiently in the bus, staring into the unseeing beyond, dreaming of the future.
Dreaming of a tomorrow
- where travelling from Point A to Point B using teleportation is reality;
- where I don't have to reach home at midnight and find there are no coffee beans - the container should have sent out a notification and a refill sent across;
- of virtual offices - imagine sitting in a park and coding;
- where software is all it was meant to be, about making life easier for people, not about profit margins and dumbed-down websites. Computers were meant to do much more, tomorrow's internet shouldn't be only about computers talking, it should be about physical objects interfacing.
- where collaboration really means real-time : gwave seem to have got it right but then don't they always. Was re-watching the gwave demo and kinda found cool the bit they had where i can watch a message even as it is being typed. As Lars mentioned, a friend recently complained that given the size of my messages, he got tired of the task bar showing i am typing and typing and typing :)
- where being friends is not equated with sending pokes on facebook and being connected is not about sending a tweet stating u're having dinner and watching 'Friends' (there, think i lost my last friend :)
- where i can pluck out my thoughts and save them somewhere so I can retrieve the thread later;
- a harry potter kind of self-updating newspaper interface with clickable links which allows me to drill down and read associated articles;
- where touch-interfaces are ubiquitous, they're so intuitive, i'd give anything for a software which allows me to pull out objects to build a uml diagram from a dashboard by holding it and dropping it, the mouse never gets it quite right, but that's a personal quirk;
- a robot of my own.
Remember reading about 'Internet of Things' and the concept of 'Ubiquitous computing'. I think I'll like the future when it comes, may not be around, then again, may be around in another form.
Dreaming of a tomorrow
- where travelling from Point A to Point B using teleportation is reality;
- where I don't have to reach home at midnight and find there are no coffee beans - the container should have sent out a notification and a refill sent across;
- of virtual offices - imagine sitting in a park and coding;
- where software is all it was meant to be, about making life easier for people, not about profit margins and dumbed-down websites. Computers were meant to do much more, tomorrow's internet shouldn't be only about computers talking, it should be about physical objects interfacing.
- where collaboration really means real-time : gwave seem to have got it right but then don't they always. Was re-watching the gwave demo and kinda found cool the bit they had where i can watch a message even as it is being typed. As Lars mentioned, a friend recently complained that given the size of my messages, he got tired of the task bar showing i am typing and typing and typing :)
- where being friends is not equated with sending pokes on facebook and being connected is not about sending a tweet stating u're having dinner and watching 'Friends' (there, think i lost my last friend :)
- where i can pluck out my thoughts and save them somewhere so I can retrieve the thread later;
- a harry potter kind of self-updating newspaper interface with clickable links which allows me to drill down and read associated articles;
- where touch-interfaces are ubiquitous, they're so intuitive, i'd give anything for a software which allows me to pull out objects to build a uml diagram from a dashboard by holding it and dropping it, the mouse never gets it quite right, but that's a personal quirk;
- a robot of my own.
Remember reading about 'Internet of Things' and the concept of 'Ubiquitous computing'. I think I'll like the future when it comes, may not be around, then again, may be around in another form.
Monday, June 29, 2009
A bus ride and some memories
Was travelling by one of the newly introduced KingLong buses to Chandivili on a Saturday morning. It was near Bhandup that this elderly looking man got in - he was dressed like a villager, carried a shoulder bag and had a packet of biscuits in one hand. His indecision as he entered the bus was palpable, he looked around for a minute and then moved hesitantly towards the conductor and enquired - Will this bus go to Powai. The conductor replied in a rather haughty tone - Yes but it will cost u 20 rupees. Why don't u take the BEST bus, its cheaper.
The old man opened his bag, pulled out a knotted piece of cloth, and counted out small change amounting to Rs.20. And then he replied to no one in particular - I've been saving up for this. Its way beyond my means, but I wanted to get a feel of how it feels to be inside an AC bus. That minute, every passenger on board the bus must have felt ashamed for having mentally sized up the old man as he boarded the bus and wondering - What's this ill-dressed farmer doing here.
Stood up to offer my seat to the old man. He touched me lightly on the head, at the same time refusing politely - Sit my girl. I am used to toiling under the sun for hours, I look old but am stronger than you.
During the walk down to office, I couldn't stop thinking about that old man, for whom 20 bucks meant a lot, in all probability his daily wages, and his wish to have a ride just once in an AC bus. About the things we take for granted and which are out of reach for the vast majority. About the way we judge people. And then I thought about grandpa and holding his hand tightly as he took me on a bus ride just because I loved the feel of the wind on my face - grandpa who knew all the answers, even without hearing the questions. Suddenly I missed him a lot, missed the aimless walks to nowhere, where and when does all that innocence disappear.
The old man opened his bag, pulled out a knotted piece of cloth, and counted out small change amounting to Rs.20. And then he replied to no one in particular - I've been saving up for this. Its way beyond my means, but I wanted to get a feel of how it feels to be inside an AC bus. That minute, every passenger on board the bus must have felt ashamed for having mentally sized up the old man as he boarded the bus and wondering - What's this ill-dressed farmer doing here.
Stood up to offer my seat to the old man. He touched me lightly on the head, at the same time refusing politely - Sit my girl. I am used to toiling under the sun for hours, I look old but am stronger than you.
During the walk down to office, I couldn't stop thinking about that old man, for whom 20 bucks meant a lot, in all probability his daily wages, and his wish to have a ride just once in an AC bus. About the things we take for granted and which are out of reach for the vast majority. About the way we judge people. And then I thought about grandpa and holding his hand tightly as he took me on a bus ride just because I loved the feel of the wind on my face - grandpa who knew all the answers, even without hearing the questions. Suddenly I missed him a lot, missed the aimless walks to nowhere, where and when does all that innocence disappear.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Wish it would rain
Wish it would rain, oh, no altruistic reasons there - like it gotta rain if the lakes have to fill up and such, rather just cos I miss a lot of things I associate with the rains.
- The smell of freshly drenched earth,
- The sight of people w/o umbrellas scurrying for cover,
- The interminable traffic jams, frayed nerves, bikes and cars stuck in potholes, everyone agreeing that the BMC, MMRDA, the state and central governments are populated by cheats who should be soundly thrashed,
- Jogging barefoot in the early morning drizzle,
- Sipping hot tea from a roadside vendor while waiting for some form of transportation to reach me home (what with the ubiquitous ricks doing a Houdini act during the rains),
- Trying to find shelter under a tree and exchanging sheepish smiles & inane pleasantries with complete strangers u'll never meet again - u mean u too stepped out w/o an umbrella, yeah didn't look like its gonna rain, the met dept can never be trusted, its global warming i tell u - before walking our separate ways,
- Trying but failing to shake off that weird deja vu feeling of sights and smells all too familiar,
- Kids in uniform dancing with gay abandon in the rain when schools call it a day unable to cope with the rising water,
- Adults looking wistfully at them and wishing they could follow suit but surrendering to decorum,
- Watching kids caked with mud play football - scoring a goal seems a secondary goal, the main aim is to wrestle in the slush for possession of the prized ball,
- Glimpsing a raindrop the size of a pearl nestled in the palm of a leaf,
- The sight of a carpet of red crushed gulmohar flowers,
- Wondering where all the butterflies disappear when it rains,
- Sitting by the window sipping hot filter coffee or rasam with my hand stretched out to catch the wet raindrops before they fall to the ground and merge with the emerging rivulets,
- Travelling from here to Pune just to catch the amazing view from the top,
- The feeling that the trees just got greener and the air cleaner, the dust and fumes beaten down by the pelting rain,
- Watching the angry waves at Marine Drive crash against the rocks, the howling wind threatening to blow you away (and never succeeding :)
- Hopping onto a double decker bus & making a beeline to the top deck - two round trips from VT station to Nariman Point and back just so u can stare at the choppy sea some more,
- Stepping out of home on a Monday morning and finding that the road has disappeared under two feet of water thanks to the torrential rains overnight,
- Explaining to the BT guys that Bombay has not yet gone under as the media keep reiterating, and yes the team is safe,
- Explaining to Mom that the flooded Milan subway is not THE symbol of Bombay, no matter what NDTV and Aaj Tak say, Chandivali is nowhere near Kandivili and yeah her precious daughter is safe,
- An unplanned holiday spent curled up lazily on the sofa planning to read a book or watch a vintage movie and finding its tomorrow already,
- Standing on the terrace in the pouring rain - eyes shut tight trying hard to shut out memories, at the same time savouring them, and finding that the raindrops streaming down your face are suddenly salty,
- Looking at couples sharing an umbrella and much more and wishing things would work out fine for them (presumptuous yeah I know),
- Peering out the bus window into the pitch dark black outside on the way back home and being assailed by the not-so unwelcome feeling that I am all alone in this world.
But what I love most is to just stand facing the sky with my hands spread out and get totally totally drenched in the pouring rain, that minute you are one with the elements, not a care in the world (till u wake up the next morning with every single bone creaking in protest, a burning fever and having to drink an awful looking green concoction, the sight of which makes u feel even more sick :)
As a child, I held this naive belief that rains were meant to cleanse everything it touched, grandma would say - its nature's way of washing away the bad, the belief stayed I think.
I wish it would rain. The world could do with some cleansing.
- The smell of freshly drenched earth,
- The sight of people w/o umbrellas scurrying for cover,
- The interminable traffic jams, frayed nerves, bikes and cars stuck in potholes, everyone agreeing that the BMC, MMRDA, the state and central governments are populated by cheats who should be soundly thrashed,
- Jogging barefoot in the early morning drizzle,
- Sipping hot tea from a roadside vendor while waiting for some form of transportation to reach me home (what with the ubiquitous ricks doing a Houdini act during the rains),
- Trying to find shelter under a tree and exchanging sheepish smiles & inane pleasantries with complete strangers u'll never meet again - u mean u too stepped out w/o an umbrella, yeah didn't look like its gonna rain, the met dept can never be trusted, its global warming i tell u - before walking our separate ways,
- Trying but failing to shake off that weird deja vu feeling of sights and smells all too familiar,
- Kids in uniform dancing with gay abandon in the rain when schools call it a day unable to cope with the rising water,
- Adults looking wistfully at them and wishing they could follow suit but surrendering to decorum,
- Watching kids caked with mud play football - scoring a goal seems a secondary goal, the main aim is to wrestle in the slush for possession of the prized ball,
- Glimpsing a raindrop the size of a pearl nestled in the palm of a leaf,
- The sight of a carpet of red crushed gulmohar flowers,
- Wondering where all the butterflies disappear when it rains,
- Sitting by the window sipping hot filter coffee or rasam with my hand stretched out to catch the wet raindrops before they fall to the ground and merge with the emerging rivulets,
- Travelling from here to Pune just to catch the amazing view from the top,
- The feeling that the trees just got greener and the air cleaner, the dust and fumes beaten down by the pelting rain,
- Watching the angry waves at Marine Drive crash against the rocks, the howling wind threatening to blow you away (and never succeeding :)
- Hopping onto a double decker bus & making a beeline to the top deck - two round trips from VT station to Nariman Point and back just so u can stare at the choppy sea some more,
- Stepping out of home on a Monday morning and finding that the road has disappeared under two feet of water thanks to the torrential rains overnight,
- Explaining to the BT guys that Bombay has not yet gone under as the media keep reiterating, and yes the team is safe,
- Explaining to Mom that the flooded Milan subway is not THE symbol of Bombay, no matter what NDTV and Aaj Tak say, Chandivali is nowhere near Kandivili and yeah her precious daughter is safe,
- An unplanned holiday spent curled up lazily on the sofa planning to read a book or watch a vintage movie and finding its tomorrow already,
- Standing on the terrace in the pouring rain - eyes shut tight trying hard to shut out memories, at the same time savouring them, and finding that the raindrops streaming down your face are suddenly salty,
- Looking at couples sharing an umbrella and much more and wishing things would work out fine for them (presumptuous yeah I know),
- Peering out the bus window into the pitch dark black outside on the way back home and being assailed by the not-so unwelcome feeling that I am all alone in this world.
But what I love most is to just stand facing the sky with my hands spread out and get totally totally drenched in the pouring rain, that minute you are one with the elements, not a care in the world (till u wake up the next morning with every single bone creaking in protest, a burning fever and having to drink an awful looking green concoction, the sight of which makes u feel even more sick :)
As a child, I held this naive belief that rains were meant to cleanse everything it touched, grandma would say - its nature's way of washing away the bad, the belief stayed I think.
I wish it would rain. The world could do with some cleansing.
What's your favorite form of self-flagellation
Was watching CSI the other day. Like the way they clinically work with clues to nail down the murderer, but these days the show focuses more on the human aspect, am fine with showing the psyche of the murderer, but draw the line at a demure cop fluttering her eyelashes coyly at that special colleague - boy, that's not done. U have a show dedicated to murder, I expect murder, not two cops holding hands and exchanging sweet nothings over a cuppa. Give me a good corpse any day. Friend says i must be a psycho, actually me thinks he's convinced and wouldn't be surprised at all to hear that I've stabbed someone (I'd never shoot anybody, its too impersonal). Hell, there I go rambling agin, lady, stick to the story u set out to tell, dissecting your messed up head can wait another day.
Yeah, so this CSI episode had the cop failing to nab a murderer, which leads to a second murder. And so, the cop blames himself for the second one. He keeps muttering - But she didn't have to die.
What caught my attention was his superior's reply. Name was Langston, played by Laurence Fishburne (Morpheus to all:)
He says: I knew you were a fellow masochist. Tell me what your favorite form of self-flagellation is? I'll tell you what I like to do, get on the internet, go on a website, movie site, find my favorite movie of the moment. And then I like to read all the comments telling me why I'm wrong, have such terrible taste and when I really can't sleep, I like to sculpt orchids because it's the only thing that will silence the voices in my head.
Kind of echoed my thoughts that day. No, I don't go to a movie rating site (think that's a horrible idea), but for the past few months, I've been going through this cycle of playing replaying the sequence of events on and on and thinking that maybe if I'd acted in a certain way, things would have worked out differently. Why didn't I see it coming? Must have been blind. But could I have done something to avert it, wouldn't whatever happened have happened, no matter what. I am responsible for my actions and should take responsibility for the results, however good or bad they are, yes, but could I have done something to change the results. The voices in my head just don't go away, and I don't know how to sculpt orchids to silence 'em :)
Reminds me of an Aunt May line (in one of the Spiderman series). She summed it up aptly - If you've hurt someone, u begin by doing the most difficult thing, U forgive yourself. Extend that to if someone has hurt u, u do not go down the 'What If' route and hurt yourself even more. Try to move on. Life was meant to flow, not stagnate. Easier said than done :)
Yeah, so this CSI episode had the cop failing to nab a murderer, which leads to a second murder. And so, the cop blames himself for the second one. He keeps muttering - But she didn't have to die.
What caught my attention was his superior's reply. Name was Langston, played by Laurence Fishburne (Morpheus to all:)
He says: I knew you were a fellow masochist. Tell me what your favorite form of self-flagellation is? I'll tell you what I like to do, get on the internet, go on a website, movie site, find my favorite movie of the moment. And then I like to read all the comments telling me why I'm wrong, have such terrible taste and when I really can't sleep, I like to sculpt orchids because it's the only thing that will silence the voices in my head.
Kind of echoed my thoughts that day. No, I don't go to a movie rating site (think that's a horrible idea), but for the past few months, I've been going through this cycle of playing replaying the sequence of events on and on and thinking that maybe if I'd acted in a certain way, things would have worked out differently. Why didn't I see it coming? Must have been blind. But could I have done something to avert it, wouldn't whatever happened have happened, no matter what. I am responsible for my actions and should take responsibility for the results, however good or bad they are, yes, but could I have done something to change the results. The voices in my head just don't go away, and I don't know how to sculpt orchids to silence 'em :)
Reminds me of an Aunt May line (in one of the Spiderman series). She summed it up aptly - If you've hurt someone, u begin by doing the most difficult thing, U forgive yourself. Extend that to if someone has hurt u, u do not go down the 'What If' route and hurt yourself even more. Try to move on. Life was meant to flow, not stagnate. Easier said than done :)
Friday, June 19, 2009
Big brother and licensed software
My office comp is a repository of every possible software - freeware, shareware, pirated ones, u name it and i have it. Ergo, my hate relationship with our company's idiotic software policies and its implementing arm - TIM. Live in mortal fear of losing all the software i've collected over the ages. But that doesn't stop me from distributing stuff to the new kids on the block, u just have to ping me the software name and, if available, the folder lands up on yr desk.
The other day (which happens to be 2 weeks ago), guy lands up at my desk, no greeting, he cuts straight to the point, and that, in a thick mallu accent - u have weblogic?
me - u want it?
guy - u have weblogic?
Brevity could have been his second name. Well all kinds.
Told him - yeah dude, have weblogic - versions 7 sp4, 7 sp7, 8.1 sp4, 9.2 sp2 and 10 sp3 - which one? Yeah ok, admit I was positively gloating then, but kinda proud of my collection, and like to show off, another dumb human trait :)
guy gave a rare smile (mental note - gold cap over the molars, dad must be dubai returned) - u have weblogic. (notice its now a statement, not a ques)
By now, i seriously begin to think he's gifted with a very limited vocab. But being the friendly sort (where s/w is concerned), I nod in agreement.
guy - i want control of your pc
me - huh, wait a sec - u want weblogic, u'll get it, no one's talking about handing over the entire desktop
guy - i am TIM
I sit still for a moment, silently running thru' my 4-letter collection in a span of 5 seconds, and all the while he's smiling serenely.
me - but i need it for my local development
guy - u belong to pranoob?
me (yeah, would have found that statement positively funny and be rofl but those were grim circumstances; and btw, pranoob is a pm to whom all the kids on my floor, but me, report) - err, no
guy - then i have to uninstall
me - so why does pranoob get preferential treatment, just cos he's a fellow mallu
guy flashes the gold tooth again - pranoob good man (nodding sagely)
Yeah right, tempted to indulge in some character assassination, but my thoughts are bought back to the matter at hand by the guy who's back to parroting - i have to uninstall
me - can't this wait
chap - tomorrow audit, i have to uninstall now
know when i am beaten, this chap was one of the autobots who'd been keyed in with only one word - uninstall, and been set upon unsuspecting kinds like me. and so, it came to pass, he went thru' the pc with clockwork precision, uninstalling everything with a bea tag.
End of story. Not quite. Exactly a week later, i get a call. Impossible not to recognize the distinctive mallu accent.
I go - Hey its u? Go on (like we're long lost friends :)
he - u have Tod? (he meant TOAD)
Am in one of my rare humourous moods (had backed up all the installables onto another box, ha ha :), so retort cheekily - i wish i had Tod
But the humour is wasted.
He repeats - u have Tod?
Aah well, might as well get on with it.
I go - yeah buddy, i have Tod and Rose and MQ and ...
Can picture him rubbing his hands in glee.
Will take me a day to setup all the software back again, but heck, feels good to have made somebody's day, they don't call me magnanimous for nothing :)
The other day (which happens to be 2 weeks ago), guy lands up at my desk, no greeting, he cuts straight to the point, and that, in a thick mallu accent - u have weblogic?
me - u want it?
guy - u have weblogic?
Brevity could have been his second name. Well all kinds.
Told him - yeah dude, have weblogic - versions 7 sp4, 7 sp7, 8.1 sp4, 9.2 sp2 and 10 sp3 - which one? Yeah ok, admit I was positively gloating then, but kinda proud of my collection, and like to show off, another dumb human trait :)
guy gave a rare smile (mental note - gold cap over the molars, dad must be dubai returned) - u have weblogic. (notice its now a statement, not a ques)
By now, i seriously begin to think he's gifted with a very limited vocab. But being the friendly sort (where s/w is concerned), I nod in agreement.
guy - i want control of your pc
me - huh, wait a sec - u want weblogic, u'll get it, no one's talking about handing over the entire desktop
guy - i am TIM
I sit still for a moment, silently running thru' my 4-letter collection in a span of 5 seconds, and all the while he's smiling serenely.
me - but i need it for my local development
guy - u belong to pranoob?
me (yeah, would have found that statement positively funny and be rofl but those were grim circumstances; and btw, pranoob is a pm to whom all the kids on my floor, but me, report) - err, no
guy - then i have to uninstall
me - so why does pranoob get preferential treatment, just cos he's a fellow mallu
guy flashes the gold tooth again - pranoob good man (nodding sagely)
Yeah right, tempted to indulge in some character assassination, but my thoughts are bought back to the matter at hand by the guy who's back to parroting - i have to uninstall
me - can't this wait
chap - tomorrow audit, i have to uninstall now
know when i am beaten, this chap was one of the autobots who'd been keyed in with only one word - uninstall, and been set upon unsuspecting kinds like me. and so, it came to pass, he went thru' the pc with clockwork precision, uninstalling everything with a bea tag.
End of story. Not quite. Exactly a week later, i get a call. Impossible not to recognize the distinctive mallu accent.
I go - Hey its u? Go on (like we're long lost friends :)
he - u have Tod? (he meant TOAD)
Am in one of my rare humourous moods (had backed up all the installables onto another box, ha ha :), so retort cheekily - i wish i had Tod
But the humour is wasted.
He repeats - u have Tod?
Aah well, might as well get on with it.
I go - yeah buddy, i have Tod and Rose and MQ and ...
Can picture him rubbing his hands in glee.
Will take me a day to setup all the software back again, but heck, feels good to have made somebody's day, they don't call me magnanimous for nothing :)
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