I, Me & Myself

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Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates
If you know me, you know about me and if you don't... well then read my blogs and you will find out

Saturday, November 29, 2008

SOME IMPORTANT CORPORATE LESSONS


CORPORATE LESSON #1:

A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower when the doorbell rings. After a few seconds of arguing over which one should go and answer the doorbell, the wife gives up, quickly wraps herself up in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next door neighbor.

Before she says a word, Bob says, "I'll give you $800 just to drop that towel that you have on".

After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob. Bob has a close look at her for a few seconds, hands over $800 and quietly leaves.

Confused, but excited about her good fortune, the woman wraps back up in the towel and goes upstairs.

When she gets back to the bathroom, her husband asks from the shower "Who was that?"

"It was Bob the next door neighbor," she replies.

"Great," the husband says, "did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?"

MORAL OF THE STORY:

Share critical credit information with your stakeholders to prevent avoidable exposure!

CORPORATE LESSON # 2

A priest was driving along and saw a nun on the side of the road, he stopped and offered her a lift which she gladly accepted. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to open and reveal a lovely leg.

The priest had a look and nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg. The Nun looked at him and immediately said,

"Father, remember psalm 129?"

The priest was flustered and apologized profusely.

He forced himself to remove his hand. However, he was unable to remove his eyes from her leg.

Further on, while changing gear, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, "Father, remember Psalm 129?"

Once again the priest apologized. "Sorry sister, but the mind is weak."

Arriving at the convent, the nun got out, gave him a meaningful glance and went on her way. On his arrival at the Church, thePriest rushed to retrieve a bible and looked up psalm 129.

It Said, "Go forth and seek; further up, you will find Glory."

MORAL OF THE STORY:

Always be well informed in your job; or, you might miss great Opportunities!

CORPORATE LESSON # 3

There were these 4 guys, a Russian, a German, an American and a French, who found this small genie bottle.

When they rub the bottle, a genie appears.
Thankful that the 4 guys had released him out of the bottle, he said,

"Next to you all are 4 Swimming pools, I will give each of you a wish. When you run towards the pool and jump, you shout what you want the pool of water to become, then your wish will come true."

The French wanted to start. He ran towards the pool, jumped and shouted “WINE”. The pool immediately changed into a pool of wine.

The Frenchman was so happy swimming and drinking from the pool.

Next is the Russian's turn, he did the same and Shouted, "VODKA" and immersed himself into a pool of vodka.

The German was next and he jumped and shouted, "BEER". He was so contented with his beer pool.

The last is the American. He starts running towards the Pool when suddenly he steps on a banana peel. He slips towards the pool and shouted, "SHIT........."

MORAL OF THE STORY:

Mind your language, you never know what it will land you in.

CORPORATE LESSON # 4

A young executive was leaving the office at 6 PM when he found the CEO standing in front of a shredder with a piece of paper in his hand.

"Listen," said the CEO, "this is a very sensitive and Important document and my secretary has left. Can you make this thing work?"

"Certainly, Sir" said the young executive.

He turned the machine ON, inserted the paper, and pressed the start button.

"Excellent, excellent!" said the CEO as his paper disappeared inside the shredding machine.

"I just need one copy."

MORAL OF THE STORY:

Never, never assume that your BOSS knows everything.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

WORLD A.I.D.S DAY




1st December is World AIDS Day and we owe it to ourselves and our families to be aware of the scourge and how it is affecting everyone we know
The best and only way to combat this is through AWARENESS.



IGNORANCE KILLS. EDUCATE YOURSELF.





Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Dear All,
I know i havent been blogging lately but after the incessant travel between August and now, my body finally put up its hands and decided to make me take some rest. I have severe tonsilitis and have been running a fever for the last 3 days.
To top it all i will be travelling to Delhi again this Saturday (29 Nov) for my sister's engagement and so will probably not be able to blog till i get back (19 Dec).
Till then have a very joyous EID and any other holiday that may fall in between.
Regards
Vishal

Friday, November 21, 2008

Wednesday, November 19, 2008


ADVENTURES IN MALLU LAND


Hi All,

I am sorry I wasn’t able to blog for sometime. This year has been a whole lot of travel and 2 weeks back I was informed that I would be traveling to Calicut with some colleagues for a recruitment drive. So before I continue with my euro chronicles a short detour to give you a feel of what Mallu land was like.


Day 1


We landed at 4:55 am on a foggy morning in Calicut and the moment we step off the plane (groggy with sleep as well as too much free champagne) we are whisked away to a VIP waiting lounge while an 'boy' takes all 6 of our passports and baggage tags from us. The owner of the agency here is Sheikh ‘X’ (to stay clear of slander no names will be mentioned) who runs an orphanage of more than 10,000 boys.

He is apparently also the leader of the a major religious sect of India.


The airport staff treat him like some kind of god.

Once the 'boys' have collected our luggage and cleared immigration for us (fuck no wonder terrorists get in so easily) we walk out to the parking area where there is a Pajero (in frickin Mallu land) for the Sheikh and 6 gleaming black Innovas for each of us.


Apart from the driver we each also have a bodyguardish kinda rep from the agency sitting in the front.


If all that is not enough there are two Ambis behind for all his staff. And then to top it all we have a police escort complete with flashing lights etc.


Hazard lights on and with stunned and fascinated mallus looking on, the cavalcade of 10 cars moves off and I am so enjoying this that i have to do all i can to stop myself from waving regally to the "poor" on the roads as we pass them by.....


I can soooooooo do with all this power... Must have been atleast a Prince in my previous life.


Reach the hotel and sleep till 10am and then after a quick bath we have to meet up again in the lobby as we are going to be taken to see one of the orphanages. Same cavalcade again but this time just the 6 innovas and the police escort.


Still managing to keep in check my tendency to wave at the hoards of mallus as we pass them by.


Am dressed in my cargo pants and a decent polo-shirt as its just a visit but as we drive into the complex we are met by


a) A honour guard (of orphans dressed in a costume which is a cross between the army and scouts) complete with screams of "Attenshun" and "Standetease" in a loud but heavily accented voice.

b) A troupe of dancers holding faux daflis (don’t ask) and again dressed like a cross between Ram-Lila and Mammmoty

c) 6 of the tiniest orphans holding garlands bigger then themselves (the type you see Jayalalitha and other south politicos wear)

d) a host of gold bordered lungi wearing geriatrics (who happened to be the trustees)

e) a Stage with hoards of fake flowers

f) facing a sea of almost 7-8 thousand boys of various ages.


Never have i seen such multitudes of white lungi clad boys leave alone such numbers of orphans.


After some 3-4 (i was beginning to doze out) long and typically Indian speeches we are again invited to speak. During my turn i just managed to thank the Sheikh and pray for his long life as many of the young ones in the front of the crowd looked scarily close to fainting from fatigue and boredom.


Then it was turn for lunch in a massive hall where a huge table had been set up for almost 20 people. As the 6 of us and the trustees sat down we were served some salad and some yoghurt dish. In the middle of the table was 2 huge dishes covered with silver foil. Then, very dramatically, it was whisked away to reveal mounds and mounds of biryani with a complete half of a goat resting atop each.


Smelled divine and since i hadn’t had breakfast i was relishing the prospect of a yummy lunch....


That is till the minions served us the rice. Then the Sheikh began to tear into the meat with his bare hands (jootha i might add) and serve all of us. The others in our group looked perfectly at ease but i was so revolted by this that i quickly said it was my barta and settled for fruits instead. The gory roasted goat head complete with eyes wasn’t helping either.


Came back and while the rest went to sleep i feasted on prawns and a tall cool beer.


Ahhh and did i mention that on the way back to the hotel from the lunch i again managed to resist the temptation to wave, regally or otherwise, to the ever curious 'poor' along the route.


But I did manage some discreet (yet still royal) Namastes to some (very fascinated) locals.

Poor souls probably thought i was some visiting south east Asian dignitary........ or Prashant Tamang.


Tomorrow interviews begin at 8 am and we have to do 400 per day ... phew


Day 4

The last 3 days have been 1 whirlwind of a session. We have already interviewed 1100 candidates in the last 3 days and another 1000 more to go before Saturday.

Here I have to admit that we Nepalis are a really ‘dayalu jaat’. I would begin every day, firm in my resolve to be strict with the selection. Especially since I have to face the headache when they arrive in UAE for training. However with every sob, every tear & every sniffle I would say “What the hell” and pass him.

However the candidates would go out and tell all their waiting friends that the Nepali is a good guy so my room had a huge line backing up round the corner outside. It was then that I had to put my foot down and become strict. But its really hard when they begin their sob stories.

This morning there was a simple mallu boy who (and I kid you not here) looked like Bambi the deer. HUGE eyes and a mouth that could not utter a single word in English. I am not sure if he was nervous or just dumb but for 10 min he sat in front of me with those big eyes pleading for help. And every time I repeated that I would not be able to select him if he did not answer questions his eyes would fill just that little more with tears till finally it rolled out of his eyes and down his cheeks. And all this while he did not look away or up or down…. Just sat straight looking at me with those eyes which seemed to get bigger…. By that time I wasn’t sure if he was asking for help or trying to hypnotize me. Strange.


Yesterday evening was a show organized by the hotel in their amphitheatre. Kallariyapattu or the ancient art of warfare. Sounded impressive but it was just a bunch of oiled mallus leaping about with swords. Pretty boring but the German group here seemed to be mightily impressed. Reminded me of those Bongs who Gape & Gasp into the cold orange fog at Tiger Hill while looking at, what they presume is a ‘Sunrise’.


Yesterday evening at dinner was a trio of Mallus singing Ghazals. Being a connoisseur of ghazals myself, I was dreading the accented evening that was to follow but to my pleasant surprise, the singer sang with not a hint of a Mallu inflection in his voice. I was just beginning to think that he must have studied or lived in North India when he decided to say a few words in between songs.


The poor fellow was just being polite and hospitable but after he asked us to have a “lowely taime in Gerala” and “to enjoy the gogonut karryJagjit Singh somehow did not seem the same again.


And the famous Indian trait of going out of the way to please white skinned people wasn’t going to NOT manifest itself. A group of Russians who had downed quite a number of beers were clapping after every song and making quite a racket. Actually they were generally enjoying the quaintness of seeing 3 grown men sitting cross-legged in lungis singing strange songs.


However the lead singer was so pleased with the applause that he offered to take requests from them.

After much difficulty it was finally communicated to the Russians that they could request some songs.


Pretty amused, they said the first thing they could think of…. “Raj Kapoor, Raj Kapoor” they screamed repeatedly, getting more and more boisterous with every chant.


“Soury, Now (No) Rej Keppur” said the singer taken aback. (But seriously what was he expecting anyway?).


“Raj Kapoor! Raj Kapoor! Raj Kapoor!” the drunken Russians continued.


Now with other guests beginning to look disapprovingly at the singer for inciting this ruckus, he did the only thing he knew to do….

He announced that he would dedicate a special song for the ‘Fow-rein’ guests.

And obviously not aware of the difference between American & Russian or for that matter, even male & female, he hurriedly consulted with his team of musicians (tabla and harmonium of all things) and then to our horror, launched into the weirdest rendition of Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” that I have every heard or ever hope to hear.


The only consolation was that it shut the Russians up.

And like a bad tune, it kept ringing in my head the whole night.

I had to invoke Himesh and his rendition of "Tan Tannna nana Tandoori Nights" from Karzzzzz to take it away the next morning.


This afternoon we had only just sat down for lunch when 2 serious looking boys entered the restaurant to inform us that the Sheikh was on his way to meet us. Ofcourse that was my cue to begin wolfing down my food. Totally ignoring my colleagues’ inquiring glances I ate as fast as my mouth could chew so that by the time the Sheikh arrived I was sitting back in my seat with a bowl of ice cream in my hand and grinning like a Cheshire cat.


The Sheikh came with his retinue of orphans and sat at the head of the table.

His assistants (all in their early 20’s) meanwhile also sat down but not at the table.
They, for some reason, sat in a semi-circle behind him. It was not only odd but also blocked the aisles for the poor waiters.


When asked to join us for lunch he shook his head, said he has cholesterol and then went on to order a prawn biryani and a bottle of ‘cowk’.


His ‘boys’ meanwhile refused our offer insisting they had already eaten lunch. I however did not believe that as they were quite clearly eyeing the food and swallowing huge gulps of spit behind him. When his prawn biryani arrived he, as usual, dug in with his bare hands and then, as if to reward me for eating fast, also began to reach (bare handed and jhutha by now) into the other dishes that our group had ordered.


Silently I blessed the two boys who had informed us in advance.

And if all this wasn’t weird enough the Shaikh then began to hand fistfuls of mixed food to his ‘boys’ behind him. Not on plates or bowls but right from his bare hands onto theirs.

Thank god the ice cream was a citrussy home-made lemon sorbet or else the ‘boys’ would have been left holding the contents of my stomach in their hands too.


I tried to think of pleasant things and nod at the appropriate times but then the waiter brought a whole black-forest cake to our table. As the Shaik’s eyes began to twinkle and fingers began to twitch, I quickly and respectfully stood up, bowed low and said I had some important work in the business center and hurried out.


As i turned at the door, he was just reaching for the cake....

I heard he wants to take us out for dinner again on Saturday night to the “Tej Howtel”.


I am already practicing my “I don’t think I am feeling well” face in the mirror

Day 7


After 3 more days of interviews I am beginning to see mallus pleading in my sleep. Need to go back to the familiar comfort of Abu Dhabi.


Went for the highly recommended Ayurvedic massage in the hotel spa but inspite of it being pretty relaxing I didn’t quite care much for it.


For one the “gingelly’ oil which was used was too strong smelling, the hard wood massage table wasn’t comfortable either and add to it a chatty masseuse…. Oiled and rolled on that hard bed I felt like some kabab being prepared for roasting.

After the massage to wash off all that oil, I was given a paste of chickpea and moong daal. As I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, smeared with the gooey stuff, I truly felt like a human shawarma. So much for a pleasant massage

Day 8


Finally on flight back to Abu Dhabi I randomly choose a movie to watch on the inflight AV system and what a treasure it was. WALL-E. A film by Pixar about 2 robots which has virtually no dialogue for the first 30 minutes and even after that it is just a few lines interspersed with plaintive cries of “Wall-E” and “Eve”.

Sounds boring naah? That’s why I didn’t bother to watch it when it released earlier this year inspite of it having glowing reviews.

Do yourselves a favour. Take a chance and watch it. You will get the sweetest reward.

The best scene? Wall-E and Eve dancing in space, with Eve leaving blue trails of her force field while Wall-E has an old fire extinguisher to help him.


Pure Magic.

Till next time

Photos of the above trip will be posted soon as I did not bring the camera to download the pics today.

Ciao and thanks for reading….


Vish

Monday, November 03, 2008



Dear All,

I was on a holiday in Europe in August but due to so many unavoidable circumstances I haven’t been able to post any blogs on that. I finally got the time so here goes…
But before that a big thank you to RAJ in Sweden who had written and kindly invited me to his house in Sweden. Couldnt make it this time.... maybe next time i'm in that part of the woods...





CHRONICLES of my EURO-TRIP 2008



His Master's Voice (Haupswatche square. Frankfurt)

Day 1: 14 August 2004

Abu Dhabi: The temp here has been nudging 52 degrees (yes Celsius) for the past week or so and the flight to Frankfurt is delayed. Abu Dhabi Airport has a huge skeleton (apparantly real) of a dinosour in the entrance which was bought for a huge sum but AD Tourism Authority and which is going to be auctioned off for charity later. Only UAE can do things like this.

Am waiting at the airport lounge and some people are shopping in the Duty Free shops looking teary eyed. I presume it’s because they are leaving someone behind and not because of the prices of the goods.
But they are in the minority.
Most seem happy to leave.
And most of the happy ones are labourers.
And they, quite inexplicably, are lugging huge tins of milk powder from the Duty Free.
Don’t understand why.

Frankfurt: Arrived at FRA Airport at 7pm local time to very bright sunlight which remained till 8:30 pm. Took a quick Skytrain to Terminal 1 where the hotel shuttle bus was supposed to be.
It wasn’t.
Found a hole in the wall for ‘Inquiries’.
Pressed a button and got a long sentence in German.
Told the “voice” that I was looking for the shuttle for the IBIS hotel.
The ‘Voice’ told me that the bus would be there in 7 ½ minutes.
“Thank You” I said, while muttering “smartass” under my breath.
And what do you know…
Exactly 7 ½ minutes later the bus arrived.
“Smartass” I muttered again.
This time to myself.

Tall, blonde & blue eyed, the bus driver said something in German. Told him I didn’t understand German. He asked me what I spoke?
Nepali” I told him.
Haan tum Nepali log bohut accha hai” he said.
Turns out he is Afghan. Small world!

IBIS Hotel: The staff in this small 3 star property show better customer service than some of the so called 7 stars back in the UAE
Wanted to go out for a short while but turns out the shops in Germany close by 8 pm.
OK then, UAE not so bad after all.










Day 2: 15 August 2004 Frankfurt:
Had a very heavy breakfast. (This, by the way, is the best thing to do while traveling. Heavy breakfast, light lunch). Took shuttle to Airport, left baggage in terminal and took the metro to the city center.

Got off in the main square, Haupswatsche, in the middle of a light drizzle, dressed in a flimsy polo shirt, in 18 degrees, in a city I’ve never been to before. ALONE!


And for the next 6 hours walked around Frankfurt like i'd lived there all my life. Ate frankfurters in the main market, visited a church and sent up a silent prayer, drank beer in a park, fed pigeons (probably illegally)....
Also visited a mall (for those who want to know name of mall pls see pic below) and among apparel, food and furniture shops, there was a sex shop.
For Strap-On dildos and other x-citing stuff pls visit....Zeilgalerie


Now with Frankfurt Airport being the first (and probably only) airport in the world with an X-Rated cinema in it, I’d quite expected this, but the odd thing was seeing a couple, very seriously, measure a strap-on dildo.

And the best part? The guy was the one wearing the didlo.

Welcome to Europe I guess.


cycle rickshaws in Frankfurt

In Konstablerwache square there was some kind of show going on. Went to have a closer look. A stern lady asks me if I want to watch from the inner circle of spectators or the outer one. Logically I choose the closer one and next thing I know I am handed a form to sign and 50 Euros in cash.
Turns out it is an ad being shot and I have to be part of the crowd.
“What exactly do I have to do” I ask guardedly.
When we say ACTION! you have to clap along with the rest of the ‘crowd’ ” she says merrily.

50 euros just for some clapping?? I’m game and happily sign on.



Turns out it’s an ad for the Royal Bank of Scotland. And as shootings go, its not as simple as it looks and crafty Germans don’t hand out 50 Euros just like that.
I ended up clapping on and off for the next 3 hours and while it wasn’t exactly my idea of fun, if any of you living in Europe see the ad for RBS do look out for me.

I’m the one looking cold and bewildered in a thin t-shirt with everyone else bundled up in woolens.


4:15pm. On the tarmac at Frankfurt airport waiting for the KLM flight to take off. Realize that KLM plays FM music on their planes. I wonder if we will continue to receive the signals while at 35k feet. And now sitting in a plane on a huge tarmac surrounded by over 70 other aircraft I cannot help but grin when the next song on the FM is Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi….
‘paved paradise and put up a parking lot…..’ indeed.
Talk of Irony.

5.30pm Amsterdam’s Schipol Airport is HUGE. Very Bright and Very Airy and has 6 monster cans of Heineken on the roof. My kinda place.

7:00pm Boarding aircraft for Helsinki. A lone old lady in front of me is gently sobbing and struggling with a heavy carry-on. I offer and help her carry/drag it to the aircraft. The old lady mutters something in an unidentified EU language and hugs me. Reminds me of my late granny. Realize old people are the same everywhere. But still, I guess its best to grow old in Asia.

The flight to Helsinki is stunning. A dark royal-blue sky through the right windows with a full moon and a blazing red sky with the setting sun through the left. Local time 9:27pm.

Talk of long days.
Good Sign for me though.
Long days = Longer Sightseeing ahead.
Europe Here I Come.......... (to be continued)