It's raw now

Down the millenniums, wars have been waged for women.
Christ loved a sex worker- Mary Magdalene. His mother was Virgin Mary- an Oedipus Complex?
Why do we war?
We do not war for money. We are paid to exist. We advance when we pay others to wage war. The cycle continues.
We war for gain. Food and drink are needs we are equipped to satisfy.

Khan

SRK Chacha
Munnu tamasha.

As far as Art of War in my life goes, a la Steve Jobs, I can connect the dots post events. Last year, it was very relevant. Now, it is part of me. Everyone knows my workstyle. The element of surprise, key to victory is gone.
Keeping a low profile helps to hit the ground running. Spies too are useful, changing frequently.
General is new now- young blood, as befits the army he governs.
I will evolve as my role evolves- then new strategies will necessarily result, to adapt my environment to myself.
Working while waiting. Am back in the learning stage, so expect the curve to rise in a half year to a peak.

Art of War

Is one tome I return to whenever I am feeling particularly murderous. I like the way it is written- it leaves no room for argument. Diktats are listed without explanation. Having tried some of them out, I can vouch that it works- although I did not know I was applying these principles when I was:)

Some others are intriguing- cannot figure out how to apply them. Also, I do not know how to exactly use these principles for the projects I have in mind.

He advises an army to burn its bridges- so that there is no looking back. That's one I agree with- but although I found it easy to apply on the professional front, on the personal front it is taking me more time. I imagine, as usual, that for most other people- the reverse holds:)

Musing

It is comforting to learn that others have felt and acted the way I have.

Would love to scratch certain people's eyes out-but as I felt what they must have felt I guess there must be people who would love to do the same to me.

Does truth always win?

Perhaps, when we are dead and Maud Gonne.

मंच

नही.

Altos

Chappal

Round not

Mulberry bushy

Mincey wincey spiderwomen.

Desi maals

Goras listen to desis in the new world order.

Process orientation is apex, out of the box thinking not so.

As we move backwards, hopefully we will see you fly.

Dali's Univercity

Time after time.
Ticks on...

Lihaafed

Bought one at the Islamic exhibition- overpriced but smart- hope it's warm enough.
Basked in the sun and gossiped with an old timer on her terrace.
Got an even haircut and pedicure, so am having a good hair day.
About time too.

Peeping Toms

Dicks and Harrys
Up yours.

Shankaracharya

Vivekachudamani is full of gyan that I liked- perhaps because I have not come across this brand earlier.

How to tame the flesh, free the spirit.

I liked it.

King Harshavardhana the Great

Others being ashok and akbar

But as your name suggests

Maskra you are the leader

Elder sisters may be part mothers

younger brothers sometimes bigger

have wisdom beyond their years.

Quick to spot fakes, questions age

Jealous sometimes but always a rock

one leans against, confesses to

thank you for the birthday gift

Stories provide succour once more

As this storyteller needs mind fodder

Balam's ass assuming silent is not golden

Merely fool's gold.

Dickinson's

Heart, we will forget him!

You an I, tonight!

You may forget the warmth he gave,I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me

That I my thoughts may dim;

Haste! lest while you're lagging.

I may remember him!

Routing

Servers such as artists

Thespians, painters, scripters

Are our escapes.

Do we translate them in

Pastoral leaders?

Poker

Makes one stronger and the other too.

BBluffing in teen patti

Is advisable when you have 5 aces.

Knowing thy enemy is useful too.

Flashmen

The first bully I met was at work. I did not take kindly to him. I became one in turn, looking at him; and was penalised accordingly.

The second bully I met was also at work. I did not suffer him gladly either. Telltales are even worse in my book.

Repeated bullying led to the same apathy my friend experienced.

Peer bullying, bullying by minions was also not tolerated.

While I do bully still, and am bullied, I still know it is an inferior people management tool. It decreases productivity, adds to resentment and harps on memories.

A hunger for books by Doris Lessing

Her Nobel prize acceptance speach dealt with how the children of Africa have no book of their own.
As the Internet revolutionises communication, imagination has new tools- for good or bad.
As corporates march on to rural heartlands, their goal are still very different from their consumers' hopes.
The risk averseness which habitutates elephants extends across organisms- whether it be front, middle or top end.
Risque is so much easier to compehend.
Once playing safe becomes a habit, it percolates across layers- top and bottom.
As kicked upstairs, downstairs and in our ladies' chambers, no one cares.
For business for everybody is business for nobody.
And we are perfectionists.

Horseriding

Chinese whispers

Whimsy calls stirs

Pumping pumpkins

Pink's primary colours

of our loves.

taller now, wiser

Princess, queen

of our hearts

bubee's arts.

BarCamp 3 Delhi

Was very enlightening.

Although the room I attended had very gassy presentations on how to blog in the morning( Digital Inspration was only semigaseous), matters improved post lunch.

Prashant's analysis of the blog scenario in India & outside was incisive.

The design presentations on mobile websites were also well done.

The yahoo mashup and google options as used were also innovative.

felt eerie to see an ithink developer speak of something I had added barely a week ago on fb.

Web marketing for the underprivileged as a job option to BPOs was also an early birder.

Shopping in waves rounded off gyan sessions for yours, truly.

I still think the thrill of bargaining in open air beats cold soulless malls hollow.

People seem to agree- I only saw footfalls in discount stores and the food courts.

Bru stall saw me shell out Rs. 80 for coffee I doubt I will make, only because I will get the corresponding amount off on the next PVR flick I watch.

Bluetooth, quizzes and samples saw me put my money where my mouth was.

College plays @ Old World Theatre Fest

As the name suggests, much of what was on view was old hat.

i was not impressed by Village Wooing, Pygmalion Likely. Although the acting was good, it was set in another era and space.

effie's burning was much better. The acting did justice to Valerie Windsor's script.

However, I feel that if it had been done in Hindi it would have been outstanding.

Much like Dattani's Final Solutions when performed by Asmita was so much more charged.

College Reunion

ld was gold and is becoming elektrum.

The 50s saw Mrs. Rajpal onstage.

the 60s were represented by mr. Baker et al.

The 70s too had their stalwarts. Overseas birds flew in to speak of the ones abroad.

Joy Michael was one of the Old Girls.

Stephanian couples, those who met in College and without were also awarded.

the oldest Stephanian- 1933 spoke of when Intermediate students were at Kashmere Gate, still opposite Hindu.

90s were there of course, and so were we-the Millennium Batch.

As we saluted SIR aka Stephanians in rajasthan, as Ruchi put it, when we step in College, we feel as if we are coming home.

Memorabilia was available, but what we made were memories.

Juniors elaborated on scandals eternal, no buns intended.

Gjams were incomparable.

The Stephanian centenary edition clued us in on how the more we change, the more College remains the same.

Ad nauseam, adding to dei glorius alums.

Blondie

From Fish Room to Rainbow
You talk to yourself
Just like your bua.
Imaginary phone friends
The little princess
brothers in goldman sachs
discover and understand
i love you 1 ton
you me 2 much
vincent van gogh identifier
ballet dancer
actor minx sphonx
girl with curls
tom n jerry lover
fellow brat
hungry for stories
5 minute listener
take care of pie, pudding.
as you turn dennis the menace
next year you will be six
i wonder where you will styx.

Do we make better managers?

Although I was taught not to generalise, stereotypes make our lives simle.
I believe women managers are different, sometimes better, sometimes worse than men.
It is still a man's world.
It is also a woman's world.
Do the twain meet?
To make babies, yes; but besides that?
You remind me of Nooyi.
Kiran Bedi.
Cocktail.
Nutty.
many monikers, many hats.
the singular thing about us is that you can only speak about her in the plural.
As a mother, daughter, sister or wife- we are framed by our relations.
Being one of the boys does not work, neither do we want to.
After all, they can never girl talk.
writing copy for a shirt brand was tough. I wonder then whether men find it tough to scheme to entrap women.
Seduction is still an art.

In Search of Excellence

has been the only management book I liked. I read it after College. Later, I learnt that it was fictitious. I did not feel betrayed.
Au contraire, I felt a deep admiration for the con artiste.
Business has always been a scam- I have sold kurtas for my mum since I was ten. We believed in dynamic pricing- if the chicken looked fat enough, we would pluck her more.
When organised retail killed the boutique, my product lifecycle evolved.
I worked for Shopper's Stop- my mother had made me promise I would never sleep with the enemy.
When I flipped to bschool, I recalled asking my quizmate, why is it bschool not college? He did not know.
I found bschool similar to school not College. Think that's why it was bschool- although as it was University it was mitigated somewhAT.
As I reread Tom peter@60, 25 years after In Search of Excellence, I find him text heavy.
Why do you not use images?
Image is everything.

Mentoring & being mentored

Mentoring is a difficult job. As I read businesspundit.com and other career blogs, i recall my interactions with my mentor. One predicted that i would rule. Another told me that i would revolutionise. A third said that there was something wrong with me. The fourth said maybe i was in the wrong company. The fifth said that I shoot from the hip. All were right.
As I look back on the past year, I remember the ones I mentored. One said that he had never seen anything like this in 20 years. Another said that what I was doing for the peole was worth Rs. 1 crore. A third said that I had taught him english. A fourth that my reforms would be SOP next year. The fifth said that I had good ideas, but he did not see me getting far in the company. All were right.
As corporate musical chairs promote, fire, keep my mentors and my mentees leave, progress, brand, stay, develop; the shows go on
& on
& on
here, there, everywhere, nowhere, somewhere over the rainbows.

FMS Fiesta Refueled

Happenstance Bhimani's back
ESPN Star Quiz bhai's rack
Harsha Bhogle played cricket
Breaks anek, Adidas wicket
Mac Donalds hopping buses
Late for shoot, shoot later
Croc Lacoste, Central 'gator
Shoes in Noida Nat geo genii
Barcampers untie OSS gemini
Shaw cornered, dear liar
How long? pant our fire.

Sarai performance: This Evening Too- From Lal Ded to Ahad Zargar

An inversion of the emperor's new clothes.

meat for some eyes, poison for others.

Housed talent exhibits.

Lal Ded/Lalleshwari is a 14th c saint poet from Kashmir.

Abdul Ahad Zargar's vacchun was the background tune to Indersalim's performance.

He ate dust, created a black and white palette on his torso which he used to paint the lyrics of the background song on paper rolling from the wall. The words were akin to bull for us as we knew zilch urdu- his hieroglyphics could have been Greek for all we knew.

lal Ded's text was on his back which faced us as he wrote out a century old thought.

Although his performance was thought provoking, mocking us as we struggled to decipher his stasis, i wonder how much we took away from the spectacle.

His body overshadowed the message, which we only dimply comprehended, not sharing his heritage. the plaintive strains of the song climaxed with him as we sought to match the words to his motion.

The performance could have been 1/9 of its length as he circled the text. the sheer length of the play forced us to pause, as we were forced to consider the questions he raised, the answers he tore and handed to us. the paint was still wet.

I feel much of the text's beauty was lost in translation. as Urdu is similar to Hindi, perhaps a handout of Urdu in English script would have helped us match the song to the act more.

However, i have a sneaking suspicion that to have done so would have reduced the importance of the artist- perhaps, he wished to be in the limelight as an enigma rather than as a representative of his culture.

gym gap analyse this

not fat thank dio
blamed it on rio
toner shoner
dumbeller
treader
exercycler
100 calories down
but not out yet.

get 'em fit for lives

Give, give with a heart

I do not have a credit card so am unable to fork out- but whoever can. would be great if you could cough up some small change for Afrikaans so that they can hakuna matata.