Sunday, September 25, 2011

Cooking and Me

The worst thing about staying in countries like US and Canada is that you have to cook your own food. Of course, there are smart people like me who stay with good cooks. My utensil washing ability combined with their cooking ability ensures that we co-exist happily. But once in a while, there comes a day when the cooks are busy and the utensil washer is all by himself. Today was such a day.

I had initially decided to fast the whole day but by afternoon, my stomach had started revolting resulting in strange rumbling sounds. I decided to cook something. A quick research on the internet suggested that cooking a simple potato dish was achievable for amateurs. I went to the kitchen, poured half a litre of oil in a pan and started heating it. Meanwhile, I ransacked the kitchen for masalas and found 3-4 packets. I took one masala packet and started putting it into the oil. Suddenly it slipped from my hands and the entire masala was in the oil. But no problem... more masala means tastier food !

I put some more masalas into the pan and started cutting potatoes. 10 mins later, the pan started vibrating violently. I peeped into the pan to see the entire mixture turning dark red, then brown and then black. It had started behaving like one of those volcanoes they show on the Discovery channel. Before I could do anything, the oil caught fire releasing tons of smoke. The fire alarm started ringing. The situation was out of control now. I hurled the pan into the sink and poured water into it but it resulted in more smoke.

I remembered being told that if the fire brigade arrived, the fine was $5000. I was at my wits end. I kicked all doors and windows open, grabbed a towel and started waving it frantically to get rid of the smoke. Meanwhile, my brain was calculating the total amount of money I would have to borrow to pay $5000. Suddenly, the alarm stopped ringing. My towel flapping had done the trick. But the danger was not over yet. The fire alarm had been ringing for quite sometime and there was a huge risk of the fire brigade arriving. There was only one hope - God.

Speaking of God, it sure is advantageous being a Hindu. We have 320 million Gods and there is a high probability that at least one of them will be available for your help. I started chanting all prayers I knew for invoking as many Gods as possible. Suddenly I heard the siren of a fire brigade. I started praying even harder. I promised God that I will visit a temple and offer 5000 coconuts. My bribe seemed to work. The siren died down after sometime. After waiting for 15 mins, I heaved a sigh of relief… $5000 saved !

P.S. I know that I could have ordered a pizza instead of cooking, but a hungry stomach destroys the mind's capability of thinking logically. I also realized later that 5000 coconuts will cost more than $5000 !!!

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

The Haircut

I was on my way to the grocery store when I saw a gorgeous girl standing outside a shop. She saw me staring at her and she signalled to someone. Suddenly, a couple of more ravishing girls came out of that shop and started smiling at me. I went weak in my knees... I had to go in and buy whatever that shop sold. 

Completely mesmerized, I entered the shop. The shop's nameplate read: Chi Wang - Hair Saloon

Holy crap !!!
There was no way I could allow them to cut my hair, my beautiful hair which had taken 8 months to grow this long. But if I did that, I would have to leave the shop immediately which was again not an option.

Me (to my brain): Please please... let her cut my hair.
Brain: Are you serious dude?
Me: Yeah... I will ask her to trim it very slightly. Believe me, it won't make a difference.
Brain: No way dude. There is no way in hell I am allowing you to do that

Meanwhile, one of the girls had come close to me and started taking my coat. The fragrance of her perfume made its journey through my nose and filled my brain.

Brain: Screw the hair dude... go for the haircut.
Me: Thanks man. I knew you would understand !!!

I was in a state of bliss as the girl took me to a chair and asked me to relax. I closed my eyes in anticipation.

After a minute, a strange male voice rang out, "How you want haircut?"
I opened my eyes and saw the ugliest looking Chinese guy I had ever seen with a gigantic pair of scissors in one hand and a comb in the other. I frantically looked around for my pretty angels but they were nowhere to be seen.


"Sorry. No haircut", I started saying looking for a quick way to escape.

He frantically nodded his head, suddenly opened his drawer and took out a machine. Before I could say anything, he had moved his villain machine on one side of my head and I watched in horror as my beautiful long hair fell down.

I saw myself in the mirror and was in a state of shock. One side of my head was almost bald.

"OK?", he asked.

At that moment, I swear I could have murdered him but then I realized that the damage had already been done and there was no point in murdering him. Besides I was looking crazy with one side of my head with 5 mm hair and the other side with 6 inches hair.

"Yes, OK", I replied.

After he finished, I looked into the mirror to see a mentally retarded person who had just escaped from the zoo. Meanwhile he came with another mirror and showed me my head from different angles. I felt like strangling him.

"That will be $20", he said with a very satisfied look.

On my way out, I saw those "pretty angels" pointing at me and laughing. 
Here are my Before and After photos !



Saturday, August 27, 2011

From the land of Roshogollas

PaschimBanga... that's the proposed new name for West Bengal. I think they should have spelt it as PoshchimBonga considering Bengali people's love for the letters 'o', 'b' and 'sh'. But we will discuss that some other day. Today, we will take a look at the antics of a guy from the land of Roshogollas.

Scene 1 - Gurgaon, Jan 2007
Udaykumar Seethamsetti (let's call him Uday) was new to office and had just arrived from Hyderabad. He was searching for a house. Out of the 20 odd people around him, he approached Debobrata Chattopadhyaya (let's call him Deb) and asked him if he knew about good rental places. Deb told him to try Goonga Society in Sector 14 which had good rental places. He also added that Goonga Society was very famous.


Uday: Yeh society Goonge logo ke liye hai kya?
Deb: Hahaha... naa naa. Normal society hai.

In the evening, Uday went to Sector 14 and started searching for Goonga Society. He asked everyone he met about Goonga Society but no one seemed to know anything about it. After 2 hours of fruitless roaming, he came across a pan wala.

Uday: Bhaiya yeh Goonga Society kaha milegi? Suna hai Sector 14 mein bohot famous hai.
Pan wala: Goonga Society toh pata nahi lekin yaha par famous GANGA Society hai

The next morning, Deb came to office, sat on his chair and after he got up, realized that he had a chewing gum stuck to his ass.


Scene 2 - Gurgaon, Mar 2007
I and Jimmy (another colleague) were having free coffee (one of the few advantages of working in an IT company) when Deb joined us.

Deb: Just finished my call with onsite. I was talking to Norris. He was being very adamant and telling me to complete the work today.
Jimmy (has no idea who Norris is): Is it?
Deb: Yeah... I told him, “Dekh boss, yeh sab mujhse nahi hoga.”
Jimmy: You said this in Hindi?
Deb: Yes... why?
Jimmy: Norris... he understands Hindi?
Deb: Yeah... he understands Hindi, even speaks Hindi, better than me !!!
Jimmy (flabbergasted): How is that possible?
Deb: Norris is from Mumbai... so obviously he understands and speaks Hindi.
Jimmy (even more stunned now): Who is this Norris? Do I know him?
Deb: Yeah, you know him... Didn't you talk to him last week?
Jimmy: Are you talking about Naresh???
Deb: Yes.

10 minutes later, Jimmy "accidentally" spilled coffee on Deb.


Scene 3 - Gurgaon, Apr 2007
Deb: Mera Shwapna kidhar hai?
Jimmy (wondering who Shwapna is): Mujhe kya maalum?
Deb: Kal tere desk pe tha mera Shwapna
Jimmy (Doesn't know what's going on... slightly irritated now): Arre main koi Shwapna ko nahi jaanta
Deb: Jhooth mat bol... kal hi maine mera pencil sharp karke Shwapna tere desk pe rakha tha
Jimmy: Sharpner chahiye tujhe???
Deb: Yes.

That evening, Deb started for home and saw that someone had punctured his bike tyres.


Thursday, August 25, 2011

The Story of my Life - An Autobiography by Hiranyakashipu

You must have heard about the story of Narasimha and Prahlada. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hiranyakashipu, Prahlada’s dad. I believe that a lot of people are not aware of my story. So here goes -

The Birth

One evening, Mom told Dad that she wanted a kid. Dad checked his watch and told her that evenings are not a good time for such activities but she didn’t relent and Dad had to agree. It turned out that according to Hindu rules, children conceived during twilight are born as demons. And so, I and my twin brother Hiranyaksha were born as demons.




Hiranyaksha’s Death

One day when I was relaxing with my wife, a messenger came to me with the news of Hiranyaksha’s death. On further inquiry, I came to know that he was killed by Vishnu.




Brahma’s boon
I had to avenge my brother’s death and killing Vishnu was the only way. I studied my history books and realized that defeating Vishnu wasn’t easy and I needed a smart boon from Brahma to achieve my target. I gathered a team of Business Analysts and told them to quickly come up with a Business Requirement Specifications (BRS) document in 10 days. They came up with the following requirements -

Ø  Immortality against each one of Brahma’s creations.
Ø  Cannot be killed indoor or outdoor
Ø  Cannot be killed during day or night
Ø  Cannot be killed by men or animals
Ø  Cannot be killed by living or non-living objects
Ø  Cannot be killed on earth or space

Satisfied with the BRS document, I proceeded to Mandara mountain where I meditated for years. Finally, Brahma appeared, read my BRS document and approved it.



King of Heaven and Birth of Prahlada
Armed with my new powers, I forced Indra to resign and became the new ruler of Heaven. My life was stable now and the future looked good. So I decided to plan for a kid and Prahlada was born. But there was a problem - that damned kid kept chanting “Narayana Narayana” all the time. Being a responsible father, I told my kid to enjoy life, concentrate on his studies and be a good human being instead of monotonously repeating a single word “Narayana”, a million times a day for no reason. But you know how stubborn kids are. He still continued with his chanting.



Encounter with Narasimha
I was going nuts with this “Narayana” chanting. I had to put an end to it. I searched Wikipedia to find out what this "Narayana" meant. I was horrified to see that it was one of Vishnu's nicknames. I called up Vishnu and told him to appear in front of me if he had the guts. Suddenly, a strange dude with a lion’s face and human’s body appeared in front of me and claimed that he was going to kill me. I laughed and told him about Brahma’s boon. He informed me that Brahma’s boon was not applicable in this scenario as the BRS document had not covered the following Use Cases -

Ø  Guys like Vishnu, Shiva, etc who were not created by Brahma
Ø  Corridor (neither indoor nor outdoor)
Ø  Evenings (neither day nor night)
Ø  Creatures that are a mix of man and animal
Ø  Fingernails (neither living nor non-living object)
Ø  Thighs (neither earth nor space)


The End
And I was killed by the Narasimha dude. I guess I should have hired my Business Analysts from TATA Consultancy Services.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

The Roommate


The contents of this blog post are in Hindi. People who don't understand Hindi, kindly excuse.


Have you met people who are an entertainment package in themselves? My new roommate is one of those people. He has been relentlessly fucking my brain for the past few days.

Here are some excerpts from our conversations. For the sake of convenience, let us call him RM (RoomMate).

Scene 1

RM: Mujhe ek baat batao... Montreal bada hai ki Toronto?
Sanket: Pata nahi
RM: Aap 3 saal se ho yaha par... kuch toh bolo
Sanket: I guess Montreal
RM: Lekin maine abhi google pe dekha... Montreal 4259 sq km hai aur Toronto 7125 sq km hai. Toh Toronto bada hua na?
Sanket: Tujhe pata hai toh pooch kyu raha hai mujhe?
RM: Maine socha aap 3 saal se yaha ho... toh aapko better idea hoga
Sanket: ???!!!???


Scene 2

RM: Aap IIFA awards dekhke gaye the na?
Sanket: Haan
RM: IIFA walo ne jitne paise kharch kiye utne kama liye kya?
Sanket: ???!!!???


Scene 3

RM: Canada ka credit card US mein chalta hai kya?
Sanket: Haan chalta hai
RM: Lekin currency toh alag hai na
Sanket: Haan... exchange rate apply hota hai agar Canada ka credit card US mein use kiya toh
RM: Fir kya fayda card use karne ka? Isse accha US mein credit card ke liye apply karo
Sanket: Lekin uske liye US mein rehna padega na
RM: Iska matlab nahi chalta na card
Sanket: ???!!!???


Scene 4

RM: Apple unlocked mil raha hai
Sanket: Matlab?
RM: Aapke paas apple hai na... wohi wala unlocked mil raha hai aaj kal
Sanket: Oh iPhone... mera wala pehle se unlocked hai
RM: Fir kya tension hai aapko?
Sanket: Maine kab bola mujhe tension hai???
RM: Kitne ka liya aapne?
Sanket: Around $750
RM: Lekin mujhe toh $500 mein mil raha hai
Sanket: Woh illegal hoga na
RM: Illegal kaha... koi giraftaar karega kya mujhe?
Sanket: Waise nahi... agar phone mein problem aayega, toh Apple theek karke nahi dega na
RM: Yahi toh problem hai... yaha ka phone system bekaar hai... India ka better hai
Sanket: ???!!!???


Scene 5

RM: Main TD bank mein account khulwa raha hoon
Sanket: kyu... kya hua?
RM: Main kal ek shop mein gaya tha... usne bola ki sirf cash accepted hai.
Sanket: So?
RM: Toh mera ICICI bank ka debit card accept nahi kiya usne
Sanket: Obviously na... sirf cash allowed hai toh card kaise accept hoga?
RM: Isliye toh TD bank mein account khulwana hai... ICICI bank bekaar hai
Sanket: Agar shop sirf cash accept karta hai, toh TD mein account khulwa ke kya fayda?
RM: Accha rahega na... comfortable hoga sab kuch
Sanket: ???!!!???

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

India and Corruption

Allow me to digress a bit from the usual stuff on the blog to some serious stuff.

Social networking websites have been flooded with discussions about the latest fad in India – Eradicate corruption. Millions of Indians are extending their support to Anti-corruption stalwarts like Anna Hazare, Arvind Kejriwal and Baba Ramdev. While we may or may or realize, the actual cause of corruption are not ministers or government officials. It is people like you and me – the common man. 

How many times have we thought before bribing a traffic constable for avoiding traffic fines? Does anyone bother to think about corruption when we evade custom duty at airports? Aren’t most of us guilty of bribing government officials for getting our work done? Be it a property deal or getting a passport or a driving license or even getting admission in a school, we are frontrunners when it comes to encouraging corruption. What right do we have to accuse our ministers or government officials of corruption when we ourselves are guilty of committing the same crime? 

The core cause of India’s corruption is that the common man does not find anything wrong with heinous economic crimes like bribery. It has become an integral part of our culture. The common man is so obsessed with himself that he has no time and energy for anything else. All these current movements in support of eradicating corruption are superficial and temporary. Ask the common man to stop bribing the traffic constable or evading property taxes or avoiding sales tax or creating false rent receipts to save income tax – he will faint.

This anti-corruption movement reminds me of the anti-reservation movement that we had some years back when our HRD minister Arjun Singh increased the percentage of caste based reservations in the educational system. The movement was an emotion-driven war of idealism with no long term plan. And we all saw what happened to it – it died down within a short duration of time.

I am not romanticizing our corrupt politicians; they definitely need to be taught a lesson for indulging in corruption and destroying the roots of our country but along with that, it is more important that you and me put efforts to eradicate this cancer that has been plaguing us for decades.

Jai Hind !!!

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The CMM Level 5 Baggage Collection Process

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

After a rather uneventful flight from Toronto to Mumbai, I got down at Mumbai airport and proceeded to the baggage collection area. As I waited near the conveyor belt, I saw a South Indian family of four – a couple with 2 kids – engaged in a serious conference. The father – a middle aged guy wearing designer goggles – was explaining some procedure to his wife and kids. The mother, a demure looking saree clad lady wearing flowers on her head, was listening to her husband silently while the inquisitive kids were bombarding the father with questions.

I was wondering what the conference was all about when things started getting clearer. The family proceeded to the conveyor belt and positioned themselves at strategic locations around it.

After watching their antics for 2 minutes, I realized what they had done. They had actually divided themselves into 4 business units for efficient baggage collection. 



Pre-Identification Unit (Smallest Kid)
Function: Identify all bags colored red, black and orange and signal the next unit.


Final Identification Unit (Elder Kid)
Function: Check the baggage tag and match it with ticket. On a successful match, yell out to the next unit.

Collection Unit (The Father)
Function: Collect the bag. In case of failure, signal the next unit.

Backup Collection Unit (The Mother)
Function: Collect bags if previous unit failed to collect them.


The next 10 minutes were straight out of a comedy movie. There was commotion all around the place.

Kid 1: Anna Red baggaaa
Kid 2: Appaaaa kadu kadu... ticket mismatchaaa
Father: Seri Seriii
Kid 1: Anna Black baggaaa
Kid 2: Appaaaa... matchaaa... thondarga thondarga
Father: Ekkadaa??? Seri seri... Aamaa Vijayalakshmi... thyaru avu
Mother: Serii serii
...
...
...
...
...

Thanks to their ingenious process, they had collected all their bags in 10 minutes. Meanwhile, other mortals around them were left with their jaws wide open. Like a true fan, I wanted to click their photo and get their autograph, but they vanished before I could get hold of my camera. Since that day, I always make it a point to visit the baggage collection area of airports hoping that I might see them, but I always end up disappointed.

Maybe someday..........

Friday, May 6, 2011

A day in the life of a software engineer


Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.


My alarm clock went off in the morning and I dived to catch it. 
People who are wondering why I dived to catch it, can see my alarm clock below.

This clock has a wailing siren attached to a fan which takes off at the set time. You have to jump out of your bed to catch the fan and shut down the siren which basically ensures that your peaceful sleep is blown to smithereens.

I got out of bed and discovered that my room-mate was in the washroom. After an exasperating wait, he crawled out and I jumped in. Obviously I was extremely late for office. There was no time for a shave and bath. I stared into the mirror and within seconds, conjured up an illusion that I was actually looking pretty fresh and presentable. Happy with my efforts, I ransacked my closet for clean clothes but the only ones I found was a pair of T-Shirt and jeans. I wore them, sprayed myself with half a litre of deodorant and dashed off to office.

I was stopped by the security guard at the office gate and a horrific realization dawned upon me. I had forgotten my ID Card. Now, fellow software engineers will admit that forgetting your ID Card is an extremely serious offense which normally results in several years of rigorous imprisonment in Tihar jail.

I tried to convince that security guard that if I don’t reach my desk and resolve a production problem, the Canadian stock market will crash. I told him I live far away and it won’t be possible to get my ID Card. I asked him if he had heard words like pity, compassion, love for fellow humans. His expression remained unchanged.

I jumped into an auto and rushed home, picked my ID Card and returned to my office. I was again subjected to a security check where my bag contents were checked furiously. He asked me whether I had a camera, as photography within office premises was banned. I thought whether I should ask him if my iPhone came under the category of cameras, but I decided to keep mum.

I rushed to my floor and was stopped by a security guard. He told me that I had violated the dress code and he had been instructed by HR to catch and bring all violators to them. I pleaded with him to let me go but he didn’t budge. He dragged me to the HR department. I was subjected to a speech where they explained the company mission, values and why wearing jeans destroys the image of the company.

After an excruciating 15 minutes, I was finally let go and I reached my project area, carefully avoiding the furious glances of my manager. I started Eclipse and wrote some lines of code and initiated compilation. Fellow software engineers will identify the pain that a java compiler inflicts on you as it stress-tests your patience.

Meanwhile, I had to get some of my medical bills photocopied, so I went to the Xerox section. The security guard told me to put my name, number of pages and signature in a register. He saw that I had 11 pages.

“More than 10 pages not allowed. You have to get approval from your PL, GL and Admin head”
“It's just 1 extra page”, I pleaded.

His expression remained unchanged. I went to the coffee machine for a cup of coffee to calm myself down. The security guard came running behind me.

“Coffee machine not working Sir. It will start working from next week.”

I came back to my desk. Meanwhile, my manager had reached my desk.

“We have an issue”, he announced. He looked so worried, someone could have assumed that aliens had attacked our planet !

Before he could say anything more, the fire alarm went off and we heard an announcement saying that this was a fire drill, all employees should stay calm and follow the fire warden. My manager however was in no mood to let go of the issue that was troubling him. He ignored the fire alarm and continued to shoot orders at me.


Meanwhile, a senior admin guy noticed that we were the only ones on the floor and ran towards us like an angry bull. My manager tried explaining to him how important his issue was but the admin guy continued ranting about the importance of escaping the fire. A while later, their tempers were higher than ever and they were on the verge of hitting each other.

They finally decided to approach the location head to settle their dispute. My manager asked me to accompany him. I meekly followed him. A minute later, when he was not looking, I slunk away, ran straight for home and went off to sleep.

And thus ended a normal day in the life of a software engineer.