This post is an update on what's been going on in my life. There's really nothing good to report - to sum it up in four words - there's trouble in Paradise. Please skip to another post if you're looking for something more cheerful.
My usual Sunday call with my parents turned into a heated debate on my dad's laziness/ shadiness with respect to helping me find a job. As I had posted in a previous entry, I want to return home and work on an entrepreneurship idea. My dad had convinced me that I could get a decent day job so that I could still pay for B-school on my own. I liked his idea, given that it still gave me a hedge in case my idea failed, and that it let me continue to be financially independent of my parents. So, I decided to apply for jobs in a certain industry that I am interested in. When it comes to jobs, those that know India well know that the best way to find a great job is through networking. A lot of senior jobs are not advertised online, and people prefer to recruit for certain positions through word of mouth or their friends' circles. Also, it is not uncommon for companies to create brand new positions just to absorb people they find to be of high potential, but that again requires that the resume reach someone high enough in the organization to make such decisions. Since my dad has a large network of well-placed friends, I had asked him to help me with this, and he had readily agreed a couple of weeks ago. I told him that I was going to quit at the end of August and come home and he was fine with it.
So, in my call this past weekend, I had asked him about the progress on this front and he told me that it would take several months for him to find the kind of job I want and that I should just continue with my job until he found something. He suggested waiting till January or till June of next year. Then it dawned on me that it was just his way of stalling me here till either it would be too late for me to start my project or till I eventually forget it and move on, like I've done with all of my past plans. After a heated debate on the lethargic attitude he was showing towards my plans and in getting the ball rolling, my concluding point was that whether I have an offer or not, I was still planning on getting on a plane in the first week of September, and if I didn't have a job lined up by then, I would just do my project full-time until I can find a good full-time job, because it is really important that I move on my idea before others do. I also told him that I will be applying directly to a lot of companies by myself and that I will keep him posted. My dad, though he wants what's best for me, sometimes uses his department tactics on me and I have to return fire in kind. My goal was to get him to take my plan seriously and start circulating my resume around, and I think I achieved it. So, this little incident spoiled my mood over the weekend and I walked in to work today not my chipper self.
As I was disinterestedly doing my work early this afternoon, I found Zed Zed on Skype. After the usual "Wassup?" and "sane ol'." I told him that I was excited that I had only 33 working days left. He replied, "Good, man. Happy for you. BTW, it's common knowledge now, right?"
It was the fastest line ever typed by yours truly, "What? What do you mean? Did you tell someone?"
"Yeah. I think I told DS." DS is a Director in the company, and my boss' primary rival.
"You think? Did you or didn't you?"
Thinking, oh oh! Now my boss will know that I am leaving, and that too, second-hand! Plus, though I was 95% committed to leaving this job by the first week of September, I hadn't set that date in stone, and after yesterday's argument with my dad, I was even thinking of taking it slow, and pushing it back by a week or two, should I still be offer-less by mid August.
He said, "Sorry man, I thought it was official news because T-rex (Zed's boss) told me about it. Besides, I think I was a little drunk at the time."
I replied, "Dude, he told you because we're buddies! Only you, T-rex and Navajo know. What have you done! I have to work on a containment plan now." Wondering why he was drunk in the company of DS, who we all believe is a cougar! Need to confirm whether there's substance to that rumor.
He signed off claiming that he had to go visit a vendor.
So, here I am: 50 days (according to last week's plan) from officially leaving my job and the US, wondering what my options are. I am not going to lie if Puff, my boss, confronted me on the rumor. He will try to convince me not to leave. I will hold my ground, and he will ignore me for the rest of my days here, like he did Swamdogg when he left. It could go another way as well - he sees it as a personal failure when one of his guys leaves, and hence may try and terminate me under his own terms. He most definitely can not fire me, at least not right away. If I leave today without transferring my knowledge on some specific processes to others, he, and ergo, the company, will be left crippled for at least 10 days. So, he will let me continue for another 3 weeks, at least. There is a chance that DS might not ask Puff about it when she returns to the office next week, and that's what I am hoping, so that I can get my things in order and get through the GMAT and other things per plan and leave the Bay area in the first week of September. I can manage an exit earlier than that, but I would rather follow my plan.
Then, there is finding a job back in Chennai - not just any job, but one that I want and will most likely be under-qualified for. I will have to play the odds on this one. My goal is to apply to 50 jobs this month. I saw a couple of decent positions based out of Chennai and I think I will be submitting some applications tonight, and will look into every company that operates in the couple of sectors that I am interested in. Hope luck is on my side.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Stylin' n' Profilin'
I am borderline obsessive-compulsive about a few things:
1) Driving at max torque - you'll often see me in 3rd when others going the same speed are in 5th
2) Winning arguments - many years ago, a friend of mine name-dropped me at an interview at my company when he was asked about arguing with someone who's difficult to convince, and the interviewers readily agreed with him!
3) Pronouncing foreign words like a native (except when they are in Indhi) - big pet peeve, I cringe when people mispronounce place names.
4) Stylin' n' Profilin' - this requires a whole post, so that's what the rest of this entry will be dedicated to.
I firmly believe the saying, "God made man, but a tailor made the gentleman." When I moved to the West Coast, all I took with me was 130 lbs in clothes and some 20 lbs in documents! Everything else, from furniture to electronics, was diluted back East! (I had a friend ship me my books after I had settled here.) I'll admit it - I am a clotheshorse. People might take it to mean that I am really vain or that I am a compulsive shopper. Actually, I am only just a little vain (I hope), and I am certainly not addicted to shopping, nor do I buy everything that catches my eye. I am, however, very particular about what I wear - not so much brand-wise, but cut/fit/style-wise - so that my clothes project the image that I'd like them to.
Clothes, to me, are a reflection of one's personality, akin to body language. Clothes tell you whether someone is comfortable in their own skin, whether they are traditional/modern, how important image is to them and to a smaller extent, how refined their tastes are, in general. A well-dressed person is often more confident, because he/she has one less thing to worry about, and when a person is confident, others change their attitudes around him/her. What is interesting is that the difference between ok-dressed and well-dressed is often small - clothes that fit the person and are appropriate for the weather, and accessories that match the outfit and each other. I've seen the smallest things, like the right belt and shoes or even a good undershirt, make an outfit go from so-so to awesome. But the single biggest contributor to appearing well-dressed is always finding the clothes that best fit one's body type.
Given the fact that I am a skinny dude in fat America, shopping for readymades has always been a problem! (However, damn Guess had to throw a wrench in to my savings plans by making jeans that fit me like a glove!) Good thing that, having friends that manufacture clothes for major international brands, I soon found it unconscionable to pay 800% markup on so-called "premium" brands! So, I usually look forward to my India visits for the great bargains on ready-to-wear stuff, courtesy my friends who are manufacturers, and also so that I can get stuff made the old-fashioned way, out of my own choice of cloth and design. The sad part is that I haven't been home in over 2 years now, and I have next to no "new" clothes in my closet. So, I'm salivating at the opportunity to go get a brand new wardrobe made as soon as I land. Glad just a few more weeks to go now- yay!
So, after all that talk of my passion for clothes, I thought that it would be fitting if I left a few pics of my outfits that I like the most (that I have pics of.) Please be kind in your comments :)
1) Driving at max torque - you'll often see me in 3rd when others going the same speed are in 5th
2) Winning arguments - many years ago, a friend of mine name-dropped me at an interview at my company when he was asked about arguing with someone who's difficult to convince, and the interviewers readily agreed with him!
3) Pronouncing foreign words like a native (except when they are in Indhi) - big pet peeve, I cringe when people mispronounce place names.
4) Stylin' n' Profilin' - this requires a whole post, so that's what the rest of this entry will be dedicated to.
I firmly believe the saying, "God made man, but a tailor made the gentleman." When I moved to the West Coast, all I took with me was 130 lbs in clothes and some 20 lbs in documents! Everything else, from furniture to electronics, was diluted back East! (I had a friend ship me my books after I had settled here.) I'll admit it - I am a clotheshorse. People might take it to mean that I am really vain or that I am a compulsive shopper. Actually, I am only just a little vain (I hope), and I am certainly not addicted to shopping, nor do I buy everything that catches my eye. I am, however, very particular about what I wear - not so much brand-wise, but cut/fit/style-wise - so that my clothes project the image that I'd like them to.
Clothes, to me, are a reflection of one's personality, akin to body language. Clothes tell you whether someone is comfortable in their own skin, whether they are traditional/modern, how important image is to them and to a smaller extent, how refined their tastes are, in general. A well-dressed person is often more confident, because he/she has one less thing to worry about, and when a person is confident, others change their attitudes around him/her. What is interesting is that the difference between ok-dressed and well-dressed is often small - clothes that fit the person and are appropriate for the weather, and accessories that match the outfit and each other. I've seen the smallest things, like the right belt and shoes or even a good undershirt, make an outfit go from so-so to awesome. But the single biggest contributor to appearing well-dressed is always finding the clothes that best fit one's body type.
Given the fact that I am a skinny dude in fat America, shopping for readymades has always been a problem! (However, damn Guess had to throw a wrench in to my savings plans by making jeans that fit me like a glove!) Good thing that, having friends that manufacture clothes for major international brands, I soon found it unconscionable to pay 800% markup on so-called "premium" brands! So, I usually look forward to my India visits for the great bargains on ready-to-wear stuff, courtesy my friends who are manufacturers, and also so that I can get stuff made the old-fashioned way, out of my own choice of cloth and design. The sad part is that I haven't been home in over 2 years now, and I have next to no "new" clothes in my closet. So, I'm salivating at the opportunity to go get a brand new wardrobe made as soon as I land. Glad just a few more weeks to go now- yay!
So, after all that talk of my passion for clothes, I thought that it would be fitting if I left a few pics of my outfits that I like the most (that I have pics of.) Please be kind in your comments :)
Monday, July 14, 2008
KLPD
You know how you sometimes kick yourself for being curious - like when you peek into the kitchen of your favorite restaurant? I had one of those experiences recently. I signed up for Google Analytics the other day to learn how new visitors get to my blog. I was shocked to find that Google points to my page for certain keywords. Sure, I have only my poor choice in entry titles to blame, but still! Just thinking about who would search for the following thing turned me off so much that I opted to omit my page from appearing in Google's search results.
So, what is it that has so obviously disturbed me? Take a look at some of the searches that lead to my blog:
Great! And to think that at least 15 different people have come to my blog looking for grannies! Sick b@#&$%@!
Oh well, I can at least be happy that they got the KLPD that they so deserve :)
So, what is it that has so obviously disturbed me? Take a look at some of the searches that lead to my blog:
Great! And to think that at least 15 different people have come to my blog looking for grannies! Sick b@#&$%@!Oh well, I can at least be happy that they got the KLPD that they so deserve :)
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Love or Money
Life never fails to let me know that plans made today might end up in the trash tomorrow. Going back less than 2 weeks ago, I wrote a post detailing my plans for the next few months, terminating with my leaving the US at the end of June 2009. All of these objectives were predicated upon my continuing with my current job, which is now no longer what it used to be. I shall explain in my usual fashion, trying not to divulge where I work and what I do.
Several months ago, my friend and colleague, Zed Zed, had applied for a managerial position in one of our manufacturing facilities. Pending a decision from the interviews for that position, he was temporarily asked to act in that role, while continuing to perform his regular job as well. Zed Zed was worried that the opportunity to be promoted into that role was slipping as it had been months since the interview and my boss had not hired him and had continued interviewing others. I told Zed Zed that he should move on and write off any hopes of getting that job because if my boss was going to hire him, he would have done so already. Knowing how my boss thinks, I told Zed Zed that pressurizing the boss would only backfire on his plans.
Not knowing my boss well, Zed Zed ignored my advice and tried to force his hand anyway, by making it seem like the manufacturing facility needed a lot more of his time than he could free up after doing his day job. The intended result was that my boss would relieve Zed Zed of his regular job and let him manage the facility full-time. However, the ruckus Zed Zed had raised via multiple high-profile people regarding resource needs in this facility caused my boss to assume that a full time resource was needed right away. Since Zed Zed had also overstated the importance of his regular job, he was relieved of his temporary duties in the manufacturing facility so that he can devote more time to his regular job, and I was "temporarily" thrown under the bus to cover the facility. I was hesitant to take this job, but since it was supposed to be "just for a couple of weeks," I took it to help the company out. Late this week I heard that a candidate had accepted an offer for the managerial job - Zed Zed didn't get it, some more experienced external candidate did. In any case, I was counting on getting back to my old job in a few weeks' time, and getting on with my goals.
However, I found out yesterday that the guys that run the facility have convinced top management that, in addition to a manager, an engineer is also needed to run things there. Since I am an engineer and, as luck would have it, I had solved a major issue in the previous week, they want me there permanently in an engineering capacity. Unfortunately, the director for the facility is a lot more influential than my boss. The most likely (almost guaranteed) outcome now is that when the new manager guy starts in a couple of weeks' time, I will not be relieved of my "temporary assignment."
My new job is in the field of Operations - exactly where I don't want to be. Operations (or manufacturing) is the worst place to be as an engineer, especially at a start-up. It is as thankless as a job can get, as the only time top management thinks of Manufacturing/Ops folk is when they are not meeting their goals. In other words, the only press that an Ops guy can get is bad press. I wore this cap for nearly 4 years at my last employer, and I worked 80+hour weeks, because it was a 24/7 facility and I wanted to exceed all my goals by taking control and fixing issues promptly even if they happened at 3AM on a Sunday. It was physically and mentally taxing. For me, working hard is not a problem if one is adequately rewarded at the end. However, the Ops guys tend to be far removed from top management in most manufacturing companies, with the finance, sales, marketing and R&D guys getting all the love. In short, this new role is low profile and highly demanding, the exact opposite of what my job was 2 weeks ago.
Taking on this new role "permanently" completely alters my plans for the next year, as it significantly reduces my spare time to work on implementing my non-profit idea back in India. The social enterprise idea was a result of a year-long quarter life crisis, and I now think it's my goal in life. I am afraid, going by my past history, that the longer I wait, the less drive I will have to actually pursue it. So, if I can't shake off this new job, I have 2 choices: take an early exit home or postpone my social entrepreneurship idea till June 09, when I have to return home. Given that this role doesn't give me any experience that I don't already have (except on the technical side) and that it will consume almost all my current "free" time, I think the option forward is quite clear. The trouble is that I am not sure about the financial trade-off. I was counting on vesting a lot of shares in the next year, which if our company went public, could significantly alter my net worth. So, I guess it comes down to the age old question - love or money? I will find an answer in the coming weeks.
Several months ago, my friend and colleague, Zed Zed, had applied for a managerial position in one of our manufacturing facilities. Pending a decision from the interviews for that position, he was temporarily asked to act in that role, while continuing to perform his regular job as well. Zed Zed was worried that the opportunity to be promoted into that role was slipping as it had been months since the interview and my boss had not hired him and had continued interviewing others. I told Zed Zed that he should move on and write off any hopes of getting that job because if my boss was going to hire him, he would have done so already. Knowing how my boss thinks, I told Zed Zed that pressurizing the boss would only backfire on his plans.
Not knowing my boss well, Zed Zed ignored my advice and tried to force his hand anyway, by making it seem like the manufacturing facility needed a lot more of his time than he could free up after doing his day job. The intended result was that my boss would relieve Zed Zed of his regular job and let him manage the facility full-time. However, the ruckus Zed Zed had raised via multiple high-profile people regarding resource needs in this facility caused my boss to assume that a full time resource was needed right away. Since Zed Zed had also overstated the importance of his regular job, he was relieved of his temporary duties in the manufacturing facility so that he can devote more time to his regular job, and I was "temporarily" thrown under the bus to cover the facility. I was hesitant to take this job, but since it was supposed to be "just for a couple of weeks," I took it to help the company out. Late this week I heard that a candidate had accepted an offer for the managerial job - Zed Zed didn't get it, some more experienced external candidate did. In any case, I was counting on getting back to my old job in a few weeks' time, and getting on with my goals.
However, I found out yesterday that the guys that run the facility have convinced top management that, in addition to a manager, an engineer is also needed to run things there. Since I am an engineer and, as luck would have it, I had solved a major issue in the previous week, they want me there permanently in an engineering capacity. Unfortunately, the director for the facility is a lot more influential than my boss. The most likely (almost guaranteed) outcome now is that when the new manager guy starts in a couple of weeks' time, I will not be relieved of my "temporary assignment."
My new job is in the field of Operations - exactly where I don't want to be. Operations (or manufacturing) is the worst place to be as an engineer, especially at a start-up. It is as thankless as a job can get, as the only time top management thinks of Manufacturing/Ops folk is when they are not meeting their goals. In other words, the only press that an Ops guy can get is bad press. I wore this cap for nearly 4 years at my last employer, and I worked 80+hour weeks, because it was a 24/7 facility and I wanted to exceed all my goals by taking control and fixing issues promptly even if they happened at 3AM on a Sunday. It was physically and mentally taxing. For me, working hard is not a problem if one is adequately rewarded at the end. However, the Ops guys tend to be far removed from top management in most manufacturing companies, with the finance, sales, marketing and R&D guys getting all the love. In short, this new role is low profile and highly demanding, the exact opposite of what my job was 2 weeks ago.
Taking on this new role "permanently" completely alters my plans for the next year, as it significantly reduces my spare time to work on implementing my non-profit idea back in India. The social enterprise idea was a result of a year-long quarter life crisis, and I now think it's my goal in life. I am afraid, going by my past history, that the longer I wait, the less drive I will have to actually pursue it. So, if I can't shake off this new job, I have 2 choices: take an early exit home or postpone my social entrepreneurship idea till June 09, when I have to return home. Given that this role doesn't give me any experience that I don't already have (except on the technical side) and that it will consume almost all my current "free" time, I think the option forward is quite clear. The trouble is that I am not sure about the financial trade-off. I was counting on vesting a lot of shares in the next year, which if our company went public, could significantly alter my net worth. So, I guess it comes down to the age old question - love or money? I will find an answer in the coming weeks.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Chronicles of the Chronic - Part Deux
Recommended pre-read: Joint Family.
For those who are too lazy to click, here's the short version. It was the fall of 2001. I was a junior in college and was roommates with SS and P, the biggest stoners this side of the dikes. And no, I have never smoked pot.
That story was about SS's bone-headedness. So, to keep things fair and balanced, here's one on his genius.
One day, I came home to the smell of reefer, sounds of Floyd and the sight of P and SS laughing their guts out. I walked into SS's room to ask what was so funny.
He said, "Jalebi thinks you are cute...hahahaha." P was rolling too.
Now, this Jalebi character (no points for guessing that's not her real name) was the hottest Indian girl in school. Hot in the sense that if one had a choice between dating her and, say, Bipasha Basu, one would think about it for at least 10 minutes before going with Bipasha. Given that Bipasha did not attend our college, Jalebi was the closest our college of 20,000 (with 500 Indians) had to an unreasonably hot Indian girl. Jalebi was always seen with her chief sycophant and best friend, Super, and so I always referred to the duo as "Jalebi & co."
Now, back to the story -I have a really good BS-filter, and so, though I was proud for a minute, (despite the fact that P and SS found the idea laughable) doubt set in.
"So, how do you know she thinks I'm cute?" I asked SS.
"Yoko Ono told me," SS replied.
Yoko Ono (again, not her real name) was SS's ex. When she was with SS, she hung out with P and I a lot as well. She didn't really have too many friends outside of our circle of dudes, given that most Indian girls in school were either grad-students, whom she found too poor or too clueless, or American-borns, whom she found too proud. Even after they broke up (so she could get arranged to a dude that was worth in the billions of rupees!), Yoko and SS continued to be good friends.
"And how does she know?" I questioned SS again.
"She met Jalebi and her friend Super yesterday at the library. They were asking Yoko who she hangs out with and she replied you, P and I. Once Super heard your name, she said, "Oh, psycho boy!" to which Jalebi said, "Stop it! He's cute." So, there you go, Mr. Getting- compliments-from-the-hottest-chick-on-campus."
Sounded believable - especially because of the "psycho boy" comment. Let me explain - Jalebi & co and I had a common friend - M. M was a very good boy who was everyone's best friend - he was courteous, diplomatic and friendly. He was always around women, mostly because they looked to him as a big brother character. He was very religious and wouldn't drink, smoke or date. I'd constantly scandalize him by suggesting that he do something highly uncharacteristic - like going to a kegger or getting high with my roommates. It was all in good fun.
So, once I was talking to M on IM because I was bored at work. I was telling him about this Swedish company I was interested in and we were discussing the merits of living in Sweden. To get a rise out of him, I said, "You know what else is great about Sweden - the women. Blonde hair, blue eyes and intimidatingly tall. You know they can take total control in bed! It would be nice getting dominated by a tall Swedish girl. Don't you think?" What I didn't know was that M wasn't at his computer and his friend Super was! Yeah, word spread quick in their circle that I was some freak into S&M! Damn me and my comedy routines!
Ok, back to the story, again. Everything gelled. So, the story mostly checked out. I basked in my two minutes of glory when P asked, "so, are you going to ask her out?"
I replied, "Dude, she's way out of my league and she is super high-maintenance. Besides, the last thing I can afford now is a girlfriend, especially one that half the guys in the college are after."
P and SS got serious. P said, "You *&*@#*, this is your chance to do something you will be proud of for the rest of your life, even if you go out with her just once. Dude, come on man, just ask her out. Make us proud."
I didn't want to argue, and so I said, "Dude, it'll be awkward, we're just acquaintances. I don't even have her number. Besides, her whole gang thinks I am a psycho!"
SS said, "Stop making excuses. Ask M to set you up then. He is friends with you and is always around her too."
I wasn't very comfortable with where this was going, "Stop it guys. M and I are strictly study friends. We don't hang out or anything, and quite honestly, he would find the idea quite upsetting because she's like his little sister. "
SS was pissed. He thought of me as a younger brother. He said, "Dude, you are so spineless. I have to do everything for you," and asked P to grab me, and the 230-pound P quickly put in me in a headlock. SS then took my cellphone out of my pocket and called M!
I was screaming, "SS, dude, don't do it. Seriously. Come on, man." He was laughing, saying "Too late...it's ringing now."
Then he said, "Dude, hey, it's SS - B's roommate." Me yelling, "M hang up. S, don't do it."
"It's going good man. Hey, listen. I have a favor to ask of you. B likes your friend Jalebi and wants her number. Can you give it to him?" You bastard!
"Yeah, I understand. Tell you what, just have her call him later today, if that is ok."
"Thanks, man. Bye."
P released me from the headlock and I was kicking and screaming, while they were laughing. I had no idea how to clear things up with M. I was pissed coz I thought I would look like a silent psycho guy that was secretly in love with Jalebi all along. I was thinking of damage control for my reputation while inflicting damage of the physical kind on SS. SS was laughing even more as I was kicking his ass, literally. Then, I thought SS could have just bluffed and demanded my phone back so I can check the call log.
SS wouldn't give me my phone, but showed the outgoing calls list, and the last call was registered to M. As I continued arguing with them, SS and P acted as though they had done me the favor of the century, and I was worried like I had committed the crime of the century.
I was split on whether I should go with the plan, given that it's already in motion, or find a way of getting out of this. Frankly, I was worried that Jalebi would find my interest in her laughable, being that every Indian guy in school was interested in her, and I didn't think I was particularly special. (Yeah, I know - "Holy inferiority complex, batman!")
So, as I waited in SS's room, my phone rang. P put me in a headlock again and SS showed me the caller ID - it was M.
"Hello."
"Oh, hi. Good. How are you?" Can't be Jalebi. M wouldn't be that stupid.
"Yeah, he stepped out for a minute, but you can consider me his spokesman, haha." I was screaming, "dude, at least let me talk."
"You know the guy, na. He's a bit shy, and he didn't wanna screw this up, coz he thinks you're really pretty and he really likes you." Good touch, at least he said pretty instead of hot, but what's with painting me as a loser, man!
"Haha..."
"So, listen, I just want to say that he is a really nice guy and you should give him a shot. Also, he thinks you guys should talk in person. So, where can he come find you?" wtf?
"Ok, cool. I'll let him know."
"Thanks for calling me back." "Thanks for calling?What are you a damn call center?"
"Bye."
P released me from the headlock once again, and SS tossed me the phone. It was done. SS then said, "Look, you're out of options now. She thinks you're gonna come talk to her in the library at 3 PM tomorrow. If you don't go, you'll look like a wussy or a jerk. Good luck."
"Thanks a lot! With friends like you, who needs enemies!" I said and walked out of my apartment towards the library.
I met K in the library. K is another Indian dude and was then one of my good friends. He was also good friends with M and Jalebi. When I explained what had happened that afternoon with SS and M, he agreed with me that M wouldn't have taken it too well. K, being the nice guy that he was, wanted to help fix it. I told him that I could just pretend it was something SS did without my knowledge, and M might believe it. K told me that it was best if he spoke to M and explained exactly what happened. I told him that I was grateful for his efforts.
K then ran into M and said, "You know B doesn't really like Jalebi, right?"
The ever-diplomatic M was taken aback a little, and then responded with a "Really? OK."
K continued, "His stupid roommates were trying to be funny. You know they're pot heads right? Damn fools."
M didn't know what was going on, but quickly agreed in his usual style, "Of course, those guys are out of control" and changed the subject.
After K called me to confirm that he had set things straight, I went home and told SS and P that I had dug myself out of the hole they had dug for me. SS about rolled out of his bed laughing.
"You idiot, I never spoke to M or Jalebi!"
"What? But the call register on my phone..." I was a deer in the headlights!
"Yeah, I let it ring once and hung up. Looks like M saw his missed calls and called you back. I answered and immediately hung up, so the call register looks legit!"
"WTF? But why?" I was even more pissed at SS.
SS said, "Dude, the part about her complimenting you in front of Yoko Ono is true, and I was glad you had a shot with the hottest girl in school. I also knew that you'd never go for her, because you think she's way out of your league. So, I just wanted to set you up so that you thought you had no choice. Seriously, man. I am sorry, but I think you should at least talk to her."
And so, that's the story of how I was outwitted by a couple of stoners using a really cheap Samsung phone.
PS: I have always wondered how M took the random news from K that I "did not like" Jalebi! Since M is so diplomatic, there is no way of knowing - matter of fact, we still continue to be "friends." I also wonder if he ever told Jalebi & co (who already thought I was psycho) any of this. In any case, I was too embarrassed to correct this misunderstanding then and decided instead to avoid running into Jalebi & co for the one and a half years I had left in school! Trust me, it's not very easy when you have 10 mutual friends with someone you're trying to avoid!
For those who are too lazy to click, here's the short version. It was the fall of 2001. I was a junior in college and was roommates with SS and P, the biggest stoners this side of the dikes. And no, I have never smoked pot.
That story was about SS's bone-headedness. So, to keep things fair and balanced, here's one on his genius.
One day, I came home to the smell of reefer, sounds of Floyd and the sight of P and SS laughing their guts out. I walked into SS's room to ask what was so funny.
He said, "Jalebi thinks you are cute...hahahaha." P was rolling too.
Now, this Jalebi character (no points for guessing that's not her real name) was the hottest Indian girl in school. Hot in the sense that if one had a choice between dating her and, say, Bipasha Basu, one would think about it for at least 10 minutes before going with Bipasha. Given that Bipasha did not attend our college, Jalebi was the closest our college of 20,000 (with 500 Indians) had to an unreasonably hot Indian girl. Jalebi was always seen with her chief sycophant and best friend, Super, and so I always referred to the duo as "Jalebi & co."
Now, back to the story -I have a really good BS-filter, and so, though I was proud for a minute, (despite the fact that P and SS found the idea laughable) doubt set in.
"So, how do you know she thinks I'm cute?" I asked SS.
"Yoko Ono told me," SS replied.
Yoko Ono (again, not her real name) was SS's ex. When she was with SS, she hung out with P and I a lot as well. She didn't really have too many friends outside of our circle of dudes, given that most Indian girls in school were either grad-students, whom she found too poor or too clueless, or American-borns, whom she found too proud. Even after they broke up (so she could get arranged to a dude that was worth in the billions of rupees!), Yoko and SS continued to be good friends.
"And how does she know?" I questioned SS again.
"She met Jalebi and her friend Super yesterday at the library. They were asking Yoko who she hangs out with and she replied you, P and I. Once Super heard your name, she said, "Oh, psycho boy!" to which Jalebi said, "Stop it! He's cute." So, there you go, Mr. Getting- compliments-from-the-hottest-chick-on-campus."
Sounded believable - especially because of the "psycho boy" comment. Let me explain - Jalebi & co and I had a common friend - M. M was a very good boy who was everyone's best friend - he was courteous, diplomatic and friendly. He was always around women, mostly because they looked to him as a big brother character. He was very religious and wouldn't drink, smoke or date. I'd constantly scandalize him by suggesting that he do something highly uncharacteristic - like going to a kegger or getting high with my roommates. It was all in good fun.
So, once I was talking to M on IM because I was bored at work. I was telling him about this Swedish company I was interested in and we were discussing the merits of living in Sweden. To get a rise out of him, I said, "You know what else is great about Sweden - the women. Blonde hair, blue eyes and intimidatingly tall. You know they can take total control in bed! It would be nice getting dominated by a tall Swedish girl. Don't you think?" What I didn't know was that M wasn't at his computer and his friend Super was! Yeah, word spread quick in their circle that I was some freak into S&M! Damn me and my comedy routines!
Ok, back to the story, again. Everything gelled. So, the story mostly checked out. I basked in my two minutes of glory when P asked, "so, are you going to ask her out?"
I replied, "Dude, she's way out of my league and she is super high-maintenance. Besides, the last thing I can afford now is a girlfriend, especially one that half the guys in the college are after."
P and SS got serious. P said, "You *&*@#*, this is your chance to do something you will be proud of for the rest of your life, even if you go out with her just once. Dude, come on man, just ask her out. Make us proud."
I didn't want to argue, and so I said, "Dude, it'll be awkward, we're just acquaintances. I don't even have her number. Besides, her whole gang thinks I am a psycho!"
SS said, "Stop making excuses. Ask M to set you up then. He is friends with you and is always around her too."
I wasn't very comfortable with where this was going, "Stop it guys. M and I are strictly study friends. We don't hang out or anything, and quite honestly, he would find the idea quite upsetting because she's like his little sister. "
SS was pissed. He thought of me as a younger brother. He said, "Dude, you are so spineless. I have to do everything for you," and asked P to grab me, and the 230-pound P quickly put in me in a headlock. SS then took my cellphone out of my pocket and called M!
I was screaming, "SS, dude, don't do it. Seriously. Come on, man." He was laughing, saying "Too late...it's ringing now."
Then he said, "Dude, hey, it's SS - B's roommate." Me yelling, "M hang up. S, don't do it."
"It's going good man. Hey, listen. I have a favor to ask of you. B likes your friend Jalebi and wants her number. Can you give it to him?" You bastard!
"Yeah, I understand. Tell you what, just have her call him later today, if that is ok."
"Thanks, man. Bye."
P released me from the headlock and I was kicking and screaming, while they were laughing. I had no idea how to clear things up with M. I was pissed coz I thought I would look like a silent psycho guy that was secretly in love with Jalebi all along. I was thinking of damage control for my reputation while inflicting damage of the physical kind on SS. SS was laughing even more as I was kicking his ass, literally. Then, I thought SS could have just bluffed and demanded my phone back so I can check the call log.
SS wouldn't give me my phone, but showed the outgoing calls list, and the last call was registered to M. As I continued arguing with them, SS and P acted as though they had done me the favor of the century, and I was worried like I had committed the crime of the century.
I was split on whether I should go with the plan, given that it's already in motion, or find a way of getting out of this. Frankly, I was worried that Jalebi would find my interest in her laughable, being that every Indian guy in school was interested in her, and I didn't think I was particularly special. (Yeah, I know - "Holy inferiority complex, batman!")
So, as I waited in SS's room, my phone rang. P put me in a headlock again and SS showed me the caller ID - it was M.
"Hello."
"Oh, hi. Good. How are you?" Can't be Jalebi. M wouldn't be that stupid.
"Yeah, he stepped out for a minute, but you can consider me his spokesman, haha." I was screaming, "dude, at least let me talk."
"You know the guy, na. He's a bit shy, and he didn't wanna screw this up, coz he thinks you're really pretty and he really likes you." Good touch, at least he said pretty instead of hot, but what's with painting me as a loser, man!
"Haha..."
"So, listen, I just want to say that he is a really nice guy and you should give him a shot. Also, he thinks you guys should talk in person. So, where can he come find you?" wtf?
"Ok, cool. I'll let him know."
"Thanks for calling me back." "Thanks for calling?What are you a damn call center?"
"Bye."
P released me from the headlock once again, and SS tossed me the phone. It was done. SS then said, "Look, you're out of options now. She thinks you're gonna come talk to her in the library at 3 PM tomorrow. If you don't go, you'll look like a wussy or a jerk. Good luck."
"Thanks a lot! With friends like you, who needs enemies!" I said and walked out of my apartment towards the library.
I met K in the library. K is another Indian dude and was then one of my good friends. He was also good friends with M and Jalebi. When I explained what had happened that afternoon with SS and M, he agreed with me that M wouldn't have taken it too well. K, being the nice guy that he was, wanted to help fix it. I told him that I could just pretend it was something SS did without my knowledge, and M might believe it. K told me that it was best if he spoke to M and explained exactly what happened. I told him that I was grateful for his efforts.
K then ran into M and said, "You know B doesn't really like Jalebi, right?"
The ever-diplomatic M was taken aback a little, and then responded with a "Really? OK."
K continued, "His stupid roommates were trying to be funny. You know they're pot heads right? Damn fools."
M didn't know what was going on, but quickly agreed in his usual style, "Of course, those guys are out of control" and changed the subject.
After K called me to confirm that he had set things straight, I went home and told SS and P that I had dug myself out of the hole they had dug for me. SS about rolled out of his bed laughing.
"You idiot, I never spoke to M or Jalebi!"
"What? But the call register on my phone..." I was a deer in the headlights!
"Yeah, I let it ring once and hung up. Looks like M saw his missed calls and called you back. I answered and immediately hung up, so the call register looks legit!"
"WTF? But why?" I was even more pissed at SS.
SS said, "Dude, the part about her complimenting you in front of Yoko Ono is true, and I was glad you had a shot with the hottest girl in school. I also knew that you'd never go for her, because you think she's way out of your league. So, I just wanted to set you up so that you thought you had no choice. Seriously, man. I am sorry, but I think you should at least talk to her."
And so, that's the story of how I was outwitted by a couple of stoners using a really cheap Samsung phone.
PS: I have always wondered how M took the random news from K that I "did not like" Jalebi! Since M is so diplomatic, there is no way of knowing - matter of fact, we still continue to be "friends." I also wonder if he ever told Jalebi & co (who already thought I was psycho) any of this. In any case, I was too embarrassed to correct this misunderstanding then and decided instead to avoid running into Jalebi & co for the one and a half years I had left in school! Trust me, it's not very easy when you have 10 mutual friends with someone you're trying to avoid!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Less than the sum of its parts...
I was supposed to fill out a self-appraisal form this weekend so that my boss can review it first thing Monday, Western Europe time. I was going to do it Friday, but it was more important to blog about a stupid email and go to a party at my friend's all the way up in North Bay. (It was equally important to do 130 mph (210 km/hr) on the San Mateo Bridge at 3 AM :) New speed record for me!) Yesterday was spent on reading random blogs and on tinkering with the Lex Luthor (my car, you'll have to see it to know why.) Today, after researching alternative energy ideas all morning, I finally sat down to do my self-appraisal, and then realized that time could be better spent watching the highly recommended Jaane Tu... instead. Here's my one sentence review - it's a must-see "cute" movie in the same genre as Jab We Met & Dil Chahta Hai that will leave you smiling ear to ear. That out of the way, it's self-appraisal time. Nah, it can wait, let me blog first.
For those lucky souls uninitiated in to the workings of the corporate world, "self-appraisal" stands for a process/activity in which you rate your own work over a predetermined review period. It is usually a part of a greater performance review process, typically conducted once a year, to determine how well you are doing your job, what kind of increment & bonus you deserve, and whether you have potential for future promotion.
The typical performance appraisal process in American companies (based on first- and second-hand information) is as follows:
1) You and your boss set your goals/yearly objectives at the beginning of the year.
2) You fill out a self-appraisal at the end of the year evaluating your performance with respect to meeting said goals/objectives.
3) Your boss reviews your self-appraisal form and fills out his/her own appraisal, which may/may not have the same conclusions on your performance as your self-appraisal.
4) Your boss reviews his/her appraisal with you and tell you why he/she is right, should his/hers differ from yours.
5) Your boss determines your raise/bonus, sometimes working with his/her boss.
Though the above process sounds inefficient in some ways, on paper, it definitely looks effective. Matter of fact, it even sounds easy- sounds like getting the question paper a year before the exam and getting to justify to your grader why you should get an "A." So, it's easy to assume that it is a good system that helps the employee as well as the employer. However, what I've found is that, as with most corporate programs, the devil is once again in the details.
For starters, let us look at step 1 - individual goals and objectives - must be simple enough to come up with those. Every link in a giant corporate chain has a function to do to help the corporate mission and goals, and every employee's goal must be to meet the corporate mission, goals and objectives by improving upon their work over the previous year. Sounds simple enough, again. However, in practice, when corporate goals and objectives get broken down in to departmental and individual objectives, the big picture often gets lost in translation, and people get too caught up in their own narrow goals and objectives and start acting as silos independent of the corporation. Since reviews are conducted by departmental managers, those who contribute more to the narrow departmental goals get encouraged via incentives and those that are focussed on the big picture get dinged.
For example, let's assume that there is a shoe making company whose goal is to increase profits by 10% over the previous year. So, a strategic goal is set - every department will cut costs by 10%, while Sales will try and increase sales by 10%. So, the Purchasing department finds a cheaper leather supplier whose quality is poor, but will sell leather for 15% less than the incumbent. By sourcing this supplier, the Purchasing group meets their objective. Let's look at the other side of that decision - the poorer quality leather takes longer to polish to meet the company's quality standards, thereby increasing manufacturing time and reducing productivity. Also, some of the quality defects are not fully cleaned up and are passed to the customer, and so sales drops because customers are dissatisfied with the quality of the shoes. Going by the popular performance appraisal process, the Purchasing manager gets a big fat raise for exceeding his objectives, while the Manufacturing and Sales managers get grilled for missing their targets and get nada for their troubles. Though real-life situations are more complex, the story is pretty much the same - one group within the company often excels at the expense of another. In 6 short years of working, I've seen that it's often the person/department that hurts the company the most in the long run that aces these evaluations!
Goals and objectives aside, let's talk about the self vs manager appraisals. A lot of companies make one rate his/her own work prior to the manager doing so. It is by far one of the most uncomfortable things one has to do at work. I have become generally insubordinate and so I don't care to deflate my ratings, but some of my more conservative friends and colleagues tend to go low, afraid of coming across as immodest or egomaniacal. Sometimes, their managers are smart enough to realize that they are understating their accomplishments, but other times, they just agree with the employee's own rating, sometimes because an average rating means that he can fork over less to the employee and more to one this more boastful/whiny.
Which brings me to another thing that companies do - they assume a normal distribution of talent across all departments, and within each department, doesn't matter if one team is full of Nobel laureates and another is full of dimwits! In other words, the assumption is that every team will have one or two exceptional people, and one or two under performers, and the rest will be average! This philosophy is taken into account when setting raise and bonus budgets. Managers get x dollars, which is usually a percentage of the payroll for their department, as the money they are allowed to distribute in raises. So, if x=5%, which is more or less the norm in most manufacturing based industries, the manager gets only 5% of the annual salary of his team to distribute in raises. Since his worst performer also gets some form of a raise, and most average performers deserve a raise as well, only one or two people in a group of ten can get an "above average" raise, because the more money the top performers get, the less there is for everyone else. So, managers have to try and rate people artificially low in case they have a crack team of overachievers. So, when an employee rates him/herself low, the managers' job becomes easy, and they don't have to worry about one more person that thinks he/she deserves an exceptional rating and ergo an exceptional raise! It seems again that the process is designed to be counterproductive. The most rewarded are the ones that can boast well and talk up every small achievement, whereas the ones that are busy doing real work often get left in their dust.
Sorry if this sounds jaded, but I've seen it first-hand at 3 different places now, and I've heard that it's the same at dozens of other companies. Even in my small-to-mid-size employer that's just starting out, where more than 50% of the employees come from the top 20 universities in the world, we don't have a better system. All this leads to me conclude one thing - corporations are inherently less than the sum of their parts, especially when it comes to intelligence. So, am I an idealist complaining about a system that I find unfair or am I an opportunist that is spreading the word on how the politics of performance reviews can be best utilized by the morally ambiguous? A little bit of both, I reckon ;)
For those lucky souls uninitiated in to the workings of the corporate world, "self-appraisal" stands for a process/activity in which you rate your own work over a predetermined review period. It is usually a part of a greater performance review process, typically conducted once a year, to determine how well you are doing your job, what kind of increment & bonus you deserve, and whether you have potential for future promotion.
The typical performance appraisal process in American companies (based on first- and second-hand information) is as follows:
1) You and your boss set your goals/yearly objectives at the beginning of the year.
2) You fill out a self-appraisal at the end of the year evaluating your performance with respect to meeting said goals/objectives.
3) Your boss reviews your self-appraisal form and fills out his/her own appraisal, which may/may not have the same conclusions on your performance as your self-appraisal.
4) Your boss reviews his/her appraisal with you and tell you why he/she is right, should his/hers differ from yours.
5) Your boss determines your raise/bonus, sometimes working with his/her boss.
Though the above process sounds inefficient in some ways, on paper, it definitely looks effective. Matter of fact, it even sounds easy- sounds like getting the question paper a year before the exam and getting to justify to your grader why you should get an "A." So, it's easy to assume that it is a good system that helps the employee as well as the employer. However, what I've found is that, as with most corporate programs, the devil is once again in the details.
For starters, let us look at step 1 - individual goals and objectives - must be simple enough to come up with those. Every link in a giant corporate chain has a function to do to help the corporate mission and goals, and every employee's goal must be to meet the corporate mission, goals and objectives by improving upon their work over the previous year. Sounds simple enough, again. However, in practice, when corporate goals and objectives get broken down in to departmental and individual objectives, the big picture often gets lost in translation, and people get too caught up in their own narrow goals and objectives and start acting as silos independent of the corporation. Since reviews are conducted by departmental managers, those who contribute more to the narrow departmental goals get encouraged via incentives and those that are focussed on the big picture get dinged.
For example, let's assume that there is a shoe making company whose goal is to increase profits by 10% over the previous year. So, a strategic goal is set - every department will cut costs by 10%, while Sales will try and increase sales by 10%. So, the Purchasing department finds a cheaper leather supplier whose quality is poor, but will sell leather for 15% less than the incumbent. By sourcing this supplier, the Purchasing group meets their objective. Let's look at the other side of that decision - the poorer quality leather takes longer to polish to meet the company's quality standards, thereby increasing manufacturing time and reducing productivity. Also, some of the quality defects are not fully cleaned up and are passed to the customer, and so sales drops because customers are dissatisfied with the quality of the shoes. Going by the popular performance appraisal process, the Purchasing manager gets a big fat raise for exceeding his objectives, while the Manufacturing and Sales managers get grilled for missing their targets and get nada for their troubles. Though real-life situations are more complex, the story is pretty much the same - one group within the company often excels at the expense of another. In 6 short years of working, I've seen that it's often the person/department that hurts the company the most in the long run that aces these evaluations!
Goals and objectives aside, let's talk about the self vs manager appraisals. A lot of companies make one rate his/her own work prior to the manager doing so. It is by far one of the most uncomfortable things one has to do at work. I have become generally insubordinate and so I don't care to deflate my ratings, but some of my more conservative friends and colleagues tend to go low, afraid of coming across as immodest or egomaniacal. Sometimes, their managers are smart enough to realize that they are understating their accomplishments, but other times, they just agree with the employee's own rating, sometimes because an average rating means that he can fork over less to the employee and more to one this more boastful/whiny.
Which brings me to another thing that companies do - they assume a normal distribution of talent across all departments, and within each department, doesn't matter if one team is full of Nobel laureates and another is full of dimwits! In other words, the assumption is that every team will have one or two exceptional people, and one or two under performers, and the rest will be average! This philosophy is taken into account when setting raise and bonus budgets. Managers get x dollars, which is usually a percentage of the payroll for their department, as the money they are allowed to distribute in raises. So, if x=5%, which is more or less the norm in most manufacturing based industries, the manager gets only 5% of the annual salary of his team to distribute in raises. Since his worst performer also gets some form of a raise, and most average performers deserve a raise as well, only one or two people in a group of ten can get an "above average" raise, because the more money the top performers get, the less there is for everyone else. So, managers have to try and rate people artificially low in case they have a crack team of overachievers. So, when an employee rates him/herself low, the managers' job becomes easy, and they don't have to worry about one more person that thinks he/she deserves an exceptional rating and ergo an exceptional raise! It seems again that the process is designed to be counterproductive. The most rewarded are the ones that can boast well and talk up every small achievement, whereas the ones that are busy doing real work often get left in their dust.
Sorry if this sounds jaded, but I've seen it first-hand at 3 different places now, and I've heard that it's the same at dozens of other companies. Even in my small-to-mid-size employer that's just starting out, where more than 50% of the employees come from the top 20 universities in the world, we don't have a better system. All this leads to me conclude one thing - corporations are inherently less than the sum of their parts, especially when it comes to intelligence. So, am I an idealist complaining about a system that I find unfair or am I an opportunist that is spreading the word on how the politics of performance reviews can be best utilized by the morally ambiguous? A little bit of both, I reckon ;)
Friday, July 4, 2008
Threats, Foreign & Domestic
I checked my email this morning and found this in my Inbox:
Being sane, I instantly knew it was a hoax. However, it reminded me of something that wasn't a hoax that happened a few years ago.
The year was 1998 and Coimbatore had just been the venue for the first acts of mass terror in Tamil Nadu. In a rare display of efficiency, our police rounded up a large bunch of suspects and contained the situation in a next to no time. Soon, the intelligence branch had dug up the entire network of terrorist group behind the blasts and had uncovered the "hit list" describing their targets. There were the usual names - top politicians, Hindu religious figures and actors that supported the BJP - followed by lesser-known people - a few bureaucrats & police officers. Among the latter was one person with my last name- my dad! I don't know how exactly the media got a hold of this list, but it was printed in all the Tamil news papers and in the Hindu within a week. So, some of my friends knew before me that my dad was on a hit list. My family's police protection was immediately upped in both quantity and quality. Our .303-carrying, pot-bellied Armed Reserve/Special Police sentry was replaced by over a dozen AK-47/SLR carrying, commando-trained versions of the same. The state also appointed a personal security officer, a Sub Inspector, whose job it was to supervise the security team and coordinate appropriate protection our family, wherever we went. The PSO talked to my dad about me being a potential risk and restricted my movements to just home and school, as he didn't want to spend many resources protecting me, given that I was not the primary protected person. So, I was under virtual lockdown for several months. Not to mention, friends and well-wishers of all kinds would call and talk to us like we were on death row, expecting something catastrophic to happen at any time.
Those days were unbearable for me, but they were much worse for my dad, who was working 15 hour days and was sometimes spending all night at his office. I hardly saw him, and when I did, he was always in a bad mood. Over breakfast one weekend, I asked him about his name being in the hit-list. He laughed it off as an error, saying that some of his best friends were from that community, and he would be the last person they would want to kill. He said that he was too low profile to be on anyone's hit list, and that police intelligence must have gotten it wrong. I don't know whether he said that to comfort us or whether he really meant it. In the many months that followed, nothing really happened, but our larger security cover was maintained in consecutive threat reviews, even though several of his colleagues' security details returned to their pre-blast levels. Two years later, my dad turned in his papers for early retirement, as he didn't want to continue working for the government, given how corrupt and dangerous it had become. The government maintained his security profile the same as prior to his retirement, given that his supposed threat level was still very high. However, there were no incidents, and everyone had become quite complacent that nothing would happen.
Several months after his retirement, my dad took a trip to Chennai in the middle of his mid-life crisis. He asked his PSO to stay back and traveled by train. He did not tell anyone in Chennai that he was visiting. He got off at Chennai Central and walked outside to a restaurant where he had eaten his first meal in Chennai, some 33 years ago. He devoured the same sambar vada and filter coffee he had on his first visit there, and was waiting for waiter to get him the bill. Not getting the bill 10 mins after he was done eating, he called the waiter over and asked him about it. The waiter said, "Sir, the gentleman over there has already paid for your meal."
My dad looked behind him to find one of the guys that was in custody for over a year in connection with the blasts and was later released by the new state government. Once my dad made eye-contact with him, the guy walked over and shook his hand and asked how he was doing since his retirement, and how my mom and I were. Many thoughts raced through my dad's head - he wondered if it was coincidence or if he was being followed. He knew that regardless, he shouldn't panic and play it cool. And so he spoke with the guy for a few minutes and walked out claiming that he had to meet someone. Not seeing a car outside for my dad, the guy offered to drop him where he was going. Despite my dad's refusal, he insisted, saying, "How can you travel by auto, sir? Especially in all this pollution. Please let me drop you." Not wanting to complicate things in public, my dad agreed and told him to drop him off at the state Accountant General's office, claiming that he wanted to sort out his pension. He was making plans for what he would do once he got to the AG's office, and what his exit strategy would be from there.
Once he was in the car, the guy insisted that he stop by the leather goods company that he was running, which happened to be on the way. My dad refused, saying that he had an appointment at the AG's office to which he must be on time, to which the guy replied that it's not like the officer he had to meet at the AG's office couldn't wait 10 minutes. Also, since the guy was driving, he drove back to this factory/store anyway. My dad got out with him to get a tour of the place. The guy introduced him to his business partners, half of whom had been accused in the blasts as well. It was very uncomfortable for him, as the last time he had seen these guys, they were in prisoner whites. They got him a cold drink, and made small talk for a few minutes. My dad was nervous to be in the lair of the same organization that the state's intelligence community was convinced wanted to eliminate him. He worried if it was the end of the line for him, he worried how my mom would survive, how I would finish my education, about his poor PSO who will inevitably be fired, if not prosecuted. He looked for a way out. Calmness, he told himself, was the key. Some conversations on the state of wellness of their families later, my dad wanted to take their leave, claiming he was late for his appointment.
The guys insisted that my dad take a souvenir with him, and wouldn't take no for an answer. My dad asked them to give him something small, he didn't care what. They refused, and insisted that he pick it up himself, and led him into the store room. Realizing that these guys were covering the only exit out of the room, my dad knew that had no way out. He was mentally sweating bullets, while maintaining a cool facade. He picked up a belt and handed to a guy and said, "Ok, wrap it up quickly. I must really go now. I hate to keep this guy at the pension office waiting. Now that I am retired, I am at his mercy. Haha" and walked out through them back to the office area. He then told that the guys that he was grateful for their hospitality, and will come visit them again when he had more time, thereby taking total control of the situation. He then chided the guy that drove him there saying that he had delayed him, and he should respect others' time more, and next time schedule an appointment.
The guy took him back to the car, and dropped him off at the AG's office, and asked if he would like to be picked up and dropped off somewhere else when he was done with his appointment. My dad went in, and though he didn't really have an appointment, met with the people he had told the guy he was meeting, and called his colleague in Chennai, explaining the situation and requesting a vehicle. His colleague's official car showed up with security and took him to his office. After admonishing my dad for taking his security lightly, his colleague arranged for conveyance back to the city where he and my mom were living at the time, again with protection.
When I was back home in December, I saw the belt on my dad's dresser and asked him about it because it was not his style. He told me the background story and I was stunned. I took the belt with me, as I liked it as much as the story behind it. He insisted that even though he was worried at the time, the incident only showed that he had nothing to worry. If they had wanted to kill him, they could've done it at any time. Eventually, in the aftermath of the tsunami, he did end up surrendering his security detail back to the state, claiming that they were put to better use helping others rather than pretending to protect one man from non-existent threats. "When it's your time, it's your time," my dad told me, "and if it's your time, no AK-47 will protect you." Makes sense.
I am very sorry for you B****, is a pity that this is how your life is going to end as soon as you don't comply. As you can see there is no need of introducing myself to you because I don't have any business with you, my duty as I am mailing you now is just to KILL you and I have to do it as I have already been paid for that.
WARNING: DO NOT THINK OF CONTACTING THE POLICE OR EVEN TELLING ANYONE BECAUSE I WILL KNOW.
GOOD LUCK AS I AWAIT YOUR CALL AT XXX-XXX-XXXX OR XXX-XXX-XXXX.
Being sane, I instantly knew it was a hoax. However, it reminded me of something that wasn't a hoax that happened a few years ago.
The year was 1998 and Coimbatore had just been the venue for the first acts of mass terror in Tamil Nadu. In a rare display of efficiency, our police rounded up a large bunch of suspects and contained the situation in a next to no time. Soon, the intelligence branch had dug up the entire network of terrorist group behind the blasts and had uncovered the "hit list" describing their targets. There were the usual names - top politicians, Hindu religious figures and actors that supported the BJP - followed by lesser-known people - a few bureaucrats & police officers. Among the latter was one person with my last name- my dad! I don't know how exactly the media got a hold of this list, but it was printed in all the Tamil news papers and in the Hindu within a week. So, some of my friends knew before me that my dad was on a hit list. My family's police protection was immediately upped in both quantity and quality. Our .303-carrying, pot-bellied Armed Reserve/Special Police sentry was replaced by over a dozen AK-47/SLR carrying, commando-trained versions of the same. The state also appointed a personal security officer, a Sub Inspector, whose job it was to supervise the security team and coordinate appropriate protection our family, wherever we went. The PSO talked to my dad about me being a potential risk and restricted my movements to just home and school, as he didn't want to spend many resources protecting me, given that I was not the primary protected person. So, I was under virtual lockdown for several months. Not to mention, friends and well-wishers of all kinds would call and talk to us like we were on death row, expecting something catastrophic to happen at any time.
Those days were unbearable for me, but they were much worse for my dad, who was working 15 hour days and was sometimes spending all night at his office. I hardly saw him, and when I did, he was always in a bad mood. Over breakfast one weekend, I asked him about his name being in the hit-list. He laughed it off as an error, saying that some of his best friends were from that community, and he would be the last person they would want to kill. He said that he was too low profile to be on anyone's hit list, and that police intelligence must have gotten it wrong. I don't know whether he said that to comfort us or whether he really meant it. In the many months that followed, nothing really happened, but our larger security cover was maintained in consecutive threat reviews, even though several of his colleagues' security details returned to their pre-blast levels. Two years later, my dad turned in his papers for early retirement, as he didn't want to continue working for the government, given how corrupt and dangerous it had become. The government maintained his security profile the same as prior to his retirement, given that his supposed threat level was still very high. However, there were no incidents, and everyone had become quite complacent that nothing would happen.
Several months after his retirement, my dad took a trip to Chennai in the middle of his mid-life crisis. He asked his PSO to stay back and traveled by train. He did not tell anyone in Chennai that he was visiting. He got off at Chennai Central and walked outside to a restaurant where he had eaten his first meal in Chennai, some 33 years ago. He devoured the same sambar vada and filter coffee he had on his first visit there, and was waiting for waiter to get him the bill. Not getting the bill 10 mins after he was done eating, he called the waiter over and asked him about it. The waiter said, "Sir, the gentleman over there has already paid for your meal."
My dad looked behind him to find one of the guys that was in custody for over a year in connection with the blasts and was later released by the new state government. Once my dad made eye-contact with him, the guy walked over and shook his hand and asked how he was doing since his retirement, and how my mom and I were. Many thoughts raced through my dad's head - he wondered if it was coincidence or if he was being followed. He knew that regardless, he shouldn't panic and play it cool. And so he spoke with the guy for a few minutes and walked out claiming that he had to meet someone. Not seeing a car outside for my dad, the guy offered to drop him where he was going. Despite my dad's refusal, he insisted, saying, "How can you travel by auto, sir? Especially in all this pollution. Please let me drop you." Not wanting to complicate things in public, my dad agreed and told him to drop him off at the state Accountant General's office, claiming that he wanted to sort out his pension. He was making plans for what he would do once he got to the AG's office, and what his exit strategy would be from there.
Once he was in the car, the guy insisted that he stop by the leather goods company that he was running, which happened to be on the way. My dad refused, saying that he had an appointment at the AG's office to which he must be on time, to which the guy replied that it's not like the officer he had to meet at the AG's office couldn't wait 10 minutes. Also, since the guy was driving, he drove back to this factory/store anyway. My dad got out with him to get a tour of the place. The guy introduced him to his business partners, half of whom had been accused in the blasts as well. It was very uncomfortable for him, as the last time he had seen these guys, they were in prisoner whites. They got him a cold drink, and made small talk for a few minutes. My dad was nervous to be in the lair of the same organization that the state's intelligence community was convinced wanted to eliminate him. He worried if it was the end of the line for him, he worried how my mom would survive, how I would finish my education, about his poor PSO who will inevitably be fired, if not prosecuted. He looked for a way out. Calmness, he told himself, was the key. Some conversations on the state of wellness of their families later, my dad wanted to take their leave, claiming he was late for his appointment.
The guys insisted that my dad take a souvenir with him, and wouldn't take no for an answer. My dad asked them to give him something small, he didn't care what. They refused, and insisted that he pick it up himself, and led him into the store room. Realizing that these guys were covering the only exit out of the room, my dad knew that had no way out. He was mentally sweating bullets, while maintaining a cool facade. He picked up a belt and handed to a guy and said, "Ok, wrap it up quickly. I must really go now. I hate to keep this guy at the pension office waiting. Now that I am retired, I am at his mercy. Haha" and walked out through them back to the office area. He then told that the guys that he was grateful for their hospitality, and will come visit them again when he had more time, thereby taking total control of the situation. He then chided the guy that drove him there saying that he had delayed him, and he should respect others' time more, and next time schedule an appointment.
The guy took him back to the car, and dropped him off at the AG's office, and asked if he would like to be picked up and dropped off somewhere else when he was done with his appointment. My dad went in, and though he didn't really have an appointment, met with the people he had told the guy he was meeting, and called his colleague in Chennai, explaining the situation and requesting a vehicle. His colleague's official car showed up with security and took him to his office. After admonishing my dad for taking his security lightly, his colleague arranged for conveyance back to the city where he and my mom were living at the time, again with protection.
When I was back home in December, I saw the belt on my dad's dresser and asked him about it because it was not his style. He told me the background story and I was stunned. I took the belt with me, as I liked it as much as the story behind it. He insisted that even though he was worried at the time, the incident only showed that he had nothing to worry. If they had wanted to kill him, they could've done it at any time. Eventually, in the aftermath of the tsunami, he did end up surrendering his security detail back to the state, claiming that they were put to better use helping others rather than pretending to protect one man from non-existent threats. "When it's your time, it's your time," my dad told me, "and if it's your time, no AK-47 will protect you." Makes sense.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
