The Art of Appraisal

Big Boss: This year your performance was good, excellent and outstanding. So, your rating is "average".

Kumar: What? How come 'average'?

Big Boss: Because...err...uhh...you lack domain knowledge.

Kumar: But last year you said I am a domain expert and you put me in this project as a domain consultant.

Big Boss: Oh is it? Well, in that case, I think your domain knowledge has eroded this year.

Kumar: What???

Big Boss: Yes, I didn't see you sharing knowledge on Purchasing domain.

Kumar: Why would I? Because I am not in Purchasing, I am in Manufacturing.

Big Boss: This is what I don't like about you. You give excuse for everything.

Kumar: Huh? *Confused*

Big Boss: Next, you need to improve your communication skills.

Kumar: Like what? I am the one who trained the team on "Business Communication", you sat in the audience and took notes, you remember?

Big Boss: Oh is it? Errr...well..I mean, you need to improve your Social Pragmatic Affirmative Communication.

Kumar: Huh? What the hell is that? *Confused*

Big Boss: See! That's why you need to learn about it.

Kumar: *head spinning*

Big Boss: Next, you need to sharpen your recruiting skills. All the guys you recruited left within 2 months.

Kumar: Well, not my mistake. You told them you will sit beside them and review their code, and most resigned the next day itself. Couple of them even attempted suicide.

Big Boss:*stunned* (recovers from shock) Err...anyway, I tried to give you a better rating, but our Normalization process gave you only 'average'.

Kumar: Last year that process gave me 'excellent'. This year just 'average'? Why is this process pushing me up and down every year?

Big Boss: That's a complicated process. You don't want to hear.

Kumar: I'll try to understand. Go ahead.

Big Boss: Well, we gather in a large room, write down the names of sub-ordinates in bits of paper, and throw them up in the air. Whichever lands on the floor gets 'average', whichever lands on table gets 'good', whichever we manage to catch gets 'excellent' and whichever gets stuck to ceiling gets 'outstanding'.

Kumar: (eyes popping out) What? Ridiculous! So who gets 'poor' rating?

Big Boss: Those are the ones we forget to write down.

Kumar: What the hell! And how can paper bits stick to ceiling for 'outstanding'?

Big Boss: Oh no, now you have started questioning our 20 year old organizational process!

Kumar: *faints*

Truth Be Told

I was watching a show a few months back called “The moment of truth” aired on Fox network which was picked from a Columbian show called “Nothing More than the Truth”. As soon as I learned about the concept of the show, I was absolutely certain it will be an instant hit and sky rocket the TRP of the network like never before.

The contestants of the show will be asked a set of 21 personal questions, the answers to which if given truthfully, would gain them a lot of money. Good concept, amazing drama, perfect formula. The show was not only hit with the audience but also with the critics who thought that such a concept revolutionizes the definition of reality TV.

As I watched the questions being asked, I realized that this show can never be tried on Indian television. As open minded we claim to be, there will definitely be certain strata of the society that will absolutely resent such shows. Not as proofs to the narrow minds of our society, but infact an outburst of display of the Indian socialistic bounds that would otherwise remain dormant all along.

But to my surprise, the show had been made in India as well. There was and still is a lot of hoopla about the show and the kind of questions being asked on it. Not by the common man, not by a group of high valued pundits or learned individuals but ironically by the country’s highly educated, highly dignified politicians, who took the argument to the highest stage of them all, the Parliament. Possibly not having anything else to discuss. According to them, the questions asked not only shatter the boundaries of human decency but also threaten to meddle with the very strong Indian values.

All this got me wondering, why would a simple reality show that was just aimed at gaining some good money for the producers and at the same time entertain the audience cause such a ruckus? Do these shows really hurt Indian sentiments? Are these shows really demeaning? Will they spoil the “Indian culture”?

All these questions are being asked by a lot of news channels who are making big bucks themselves by taking the argument to the Indian audience. A lot of them said that the show was indeed not suitable for Indian viewing and the questions need to be checked and double checked to be limited in terms of intimacy. A lot of them chose conveniently not to comment.

The reason this show could be termed “unsuitable” would be that we seem to have a predicament about the level of intelligence our youth possess and believe that such shows could very easily misguide them. Fair point considering we are a nation of values, where our youth are much highly cultured than any other nation. But are they really that easily moldable? Like it or not, the current breed of youth seem to be much smarter than what they are perceived to be.

An important point is that the very sensitive topics being discussed on this show are already known to everyone. We already know that although a lot of the questions asked are extremely private, some of them apply to our lives and are true for us as well. This is why these shows are being stopped in the first place. It’s debatable, but like it or not, it’s the truth. And that is exactly what the show is all about – accepting the kind of truth that we all hate and are reluctant to accept. This makes this show all the more fantastic.

We tend to feel that these topics push the realm of decency, which they probably do. But they also bring out the blatant hypocrisy within a lot of the folks who condemn these shows that break the decency boundaries but on the other hands shatter those very same boundaries themselves.

The show comprises of 21 questions and not every question is as bad as they are said to be. Some of them are as simple as “Have you ever stole anything?” Now that’s not that big a deal is it? Most of us have stolen something or the other as kids… maybe a rupee, a pencil, or a small grape from the fruit shop. It might not be grave enough but its stealing none the less. Why do we overlook such simple questions and stress upon the 2 or 3 intimate questions!

The most important fact that we should not ignore is that these contestants have volunteered to come on stage and spill the beans. They have not been forced to do so. And moreover, the questions to be asked have been run through them before being aired. Everything that we see onscreen has been planned. Why do we forget that!! If someone is choosing to expose their personal life in front of millions of people and make a few bucks, why do we care?

The reason some people care is what I mentioned earlier. A lot of the truths accepted on camera by others are sometimes their own truth. A truth that they might have chosen to hide from others so that their perfect little life is not ruined and I think would be the right thing to do. They probably care because they fear to be overrun again by the same guilt that killed them from the inside when they did something wrong. And seeing someone else accept the truth in public is increasing the guilt even more.

I guess this is what makes us human beings what we are. We want hide our own secrets and truth from the world and when someone else does it, the hypocrisy prevails and we end up saying “This is against our culture!”

Having said all of the above, we should also not forget the ramifications of the confessions. An example would be what happened with Vinod Kambli and Sachin Tendulkar. Vinod was a contestant of the show and said that Sachin could probably have done a little bit more to save his career. This is probably true but this might have also ruined their friendship that they held on for decades!

Same applies to a housewife who ended up swallowing more than she could chew and finally choked her perfect life. She accepted a lot of her grave personal feelings in public and probably ruined her married life.

That is the bitter truth about truth itself. More often than not it ends up doing more damage than good.

So, to honor and value the Indian mentality, tradition and culture, we need to control the kind of truth that we accept in public. Not because it’s against our culture, but to see to it that we do not ruin our own life and break the bubble of the world of lies and hypocrisy that we possibly live in.

That is what would be the best for everyone in this country; that is what would satisfy the beaurocrats as well. That is what would silence our conscience.

This is not an outcry of an extremely open minded person with little regard to our culture and values but views of someone who feels that we need to look into ourselves to bring out the truth instead of condemning people who have mustered the courage to do so themselves.

Send Receive

“What the hell!!”……. was lying on my bed on a Saturday morning..
‘Who is banging on the door on a Saturday morning’, I mused..
I stood up… rubbing my eyes… walked up to the door and opened it…
“Hello”
I looked down… and saw a short old lady standing at my door smiling at me…
I tried my best to respond in a same tone… “Hii”… with a forced smile…
“Son, I stay in the apartment right above yours. I wanted to discuss with you something…”… I guess I heard this only … was too sleepy to pay attention…
Still… I replied, “ok…”
“Can I come inside…?”, she asked
“Yep… sure…”, I led her to the drawing room which was obviously – messed up (being a bachelor’s apartment).
She looked at the sofa… bent a bit… held the side of the sofa… other hand on the seat… her legs and arms trembling… and she finally bent further and sat down..
Well… that for sure opened my eyes…
“Son, I am sorry if I am bothering you at this time of the day.”, she smiled.
“No problems aunty. Please tell me”, I said
“Son, I came to know from neighbors that you work in some computer related stuff. I was having a problem in sending an e-mail. I am new to this. I have never worked in this thing. So I thought, if you can help me”, said the old woman smiling…

‘What is it?. The production support which I do in my company was already on my nerves. And now this lady comes at this time of the day and asks to repair her computer. Sending a Mail!!!!!!...’, I mused
“Sure”… ‘I don’t have an option’… latter half was not audible... I hope…
I went back to bedroom… pulled my towel underneath the pile of clothes… cursing my fate… went to bathroom… washed my face… came out… and what I see…
Her smiling face…!!!
“Lets go aunty”, I said…
The alley outside my apartment was not broad enough… and her baby steps assured that I walk the snail’s speed till I get bored to death…
“It is such a beautiful morning… Sun’s out… cool breeze… perfect time to go and do some jogging… … …”, she went on… every statement of hers was followed by ‘yaa’ from my side…

Anyway… we reached…
I entered…
It was silent…
… I heard something… I guess it was my heartbeat…
I heard her breathing…
She looked at my feet and said “You can take out your slippers over there…”
‘Hmm… cleanliness freak!!’
I took out my slippers… went inside.
It was one of the most beautiful drawing rooms I have ever seen.
“Nobody at home?”, I asked her

“I live alone, son”, smiled the old woman.
‘Alone, it was so difficult for me to believe that. This old lady who even found it difficult to sit on a sofa… had such a beautiful drawing room.’
“There it is, my headache”, she pointed towards the laptop on the desk.
‘Coool….. log in… send a mail for her… and run back to bed…’
I switched on the laptop… asked her the login id and pass and opened the outlook…
“Well … my son bought me this laptop. He is such a sweet boy…”, she smiled
I smiled back… concentrating on the screen.
“He came … gave me the laptop… connected everything for me… the internet… I don’t know what it does… how it helps… but he told me using internet I can see the world… he taught me how to send the mail… how to receive it… how to make an email… how to start the computer… how to shut the computer down…”…. Second round…!! she went on and on…
I smiled back…

“So what is the problem, aunty”, I said pointing towards outlook.
She looked at the screen. Her eyes almost closed with the radiations from the pc.
“I … I used to send mail…”….
“I don’t know where I can find the mail which I sent….”, she said
“In the Sent mails probably…”, I replied…
“Ahhh… Where’s that…??”, she asked…
I took the mouse from her… “Give it to me aunty!!”
I went to Sent Items and showed her the sent mails.
“Aunty, are these the ones you sent?”, I asked
She touched the screen…. clapped her hands in jubilation… “ohh yesss... wonderful…. here they are…!!!.... they got stuck here… that’s why they did not reach him” , she smiled as a child.
I was confused but I guess I understood her ignorance.
“Aunty, If you see the mails in this folder which is ‘Sent Items’, this means… that the mails have been sent.”, I said.
“Ohh… You mean… the mails are already sent to him!!”, she asked
I saw the screen. Saw the name to which the mail was sent.
“Ya… Aunty. The mail has been sent to Ashwin Tyagi”…”Who is he?”, I asked.

“He is my sweeet son… I call him Ashu”, she smiled.
“Hmm…”
“Aunty, Why did you think that the mail was not sent?”, I asked.
“Son, Ashu told me that if we click on the receive button, we receive emails. So I used to send a mail. Then I used to click on Receive. And I used to find no e-mail. I again used to send one. I clicked on receive. I found no e-mail. I have been doing this past 5 months. I guess you are mistaken. There is surely some problem”, she said.
My heart skipped a beat.
5 months!!
I opened the Sent Items again.
My sleepy eyes missed the long list of e-mails sent to Ashwin when I saw it the first time.

‘Beta Ashu…. How are you… ? I hope you are fine. I am missing you so much. Come home some time.’
‘Beta Ashu… did you get my previous mail? I did not get your reply…’
‘Beta Ashu… I understand you will be busy with your work… don’t worry… reply whenever you are free’
‘Beta Ashu… I thought I will mail you… I am doing good… I have made kheer for you. Do come’
‘Beta Ashu… yesterday I had some pain in my neck… now it is fine… I applied jhandu balm.’
……….
List was endless…
And painful
Was it the radiation from pc or was it something else in my eyes…!!
Last email with the same ID was –
‘This is the test mail’
Swallowing what I saw, “Aunty”, opening the last mail, “Who sent this mail?”
“Ohh… this mail was sent by Ashu only to show me how to send the mail”, smiled the old woman.
I did not know how to react… when she spoke
“I know there is some problem with the computer. I am sure. He called me a month back. He was in a meeting. So I could not ask him”
“He works for a big company…. Earns a lot now. I am so proud of him”, she smiled.
I did not want to. But I did say – “You should be aunty…”
“Yess…”, she said with her charismatic smile … “He is such a grown up now… so responsible… he is married to a beautiful girl who used to be his classmate. Now he has one boy and one girl…”, she smiled and said like a child…
“Both used to work out of town, so they shifted over there 3 years back. He used to call me earlier, but then he got busy… so we could not talk much. My ears started giving me some problem and I was not able to listen to him on phone, so he gave me this laptop.”, she said.
I was still… I was listening to her… and was watching her smile which was excited by the thought of her son.
“So, can you fix this son?”, she asked
I did not want to say that it is working fine.
I didn’t have an answer better than this - “Aunty, I guess, the send button is working fine but the receive button is not working. So Ashu is getting your mail but he does not know that you are not getting his mail. But I don’t know how to fix it.”
“ohh…”, she looked a bit sad.
I was silent.
All I could do.
“…. Can you do me one more favour?”, she asked
“Sure aunty… sure”, I said. If I could do anything today for her!!
“It is very irritating for me to type. Hitting those buttons! It takes me ages to find the characters. If Send thing is working, I want to send one last mail to my son. Can you type one last mail for me?”, she smiled.
I had no option. Yet again. But this time I guess I wanted to do it. I wanted to relieve her from this expectation of receiving a mail.

“Sure aunty, tell me what should I type”, I opened a new mail.
“Type…” “Beta Ashu… This is my neighbour typing from my pc…”
“There seemed to be some problem in sending mails. So I called him to help me.”
“He also works for a big company like you.”
“He found the problem but he does not know how to fix it.”
“The problem is that send button is working fine… but the receive button is not working. Hence, I am not able to receive your mails when I click on the receive button.”
“Beta, it has been 5 months. Please come and meet me. I am missing you so much.”
“I do not want this laptop. I do not want to see the world in internet.”
“I want to see you.”
“Come home.”
“Your mother…”

I typed the last words… I gasped and turned towards her…
I guess I saw tears in her eyes … with the same smile…She wiped her eyes… smiled “Yess….please send the mail”
I clicked on send.
She stood up, turned around and went to the bedroom.
I guess I heard her crying. I felt lonely… She came. Hurried towards the kitchen.
“Do you love kheer??”, she asked.
I smiled… with the tears which just didn’t go “Yes aunty…”
From the refrigerator she took out the bowl and gave it to me.
“Have this. I made it with my own hands…”, she smiled.
I took the bowl from her. And I saw my hands were trembling.
“Thanks Aunty… Thanks a lot”, I said.
“Thank you Beta. I am so sorry… that I disturbed you this morning”, she said.
A ‘tear-let’ fell from my eyes. But I guess I did well in hiding it.
“No Aunty… Please don’t say so… do let me know whenever you need me”, I said.
“Thanks beta”, she said.
I put on my slippers. Went outside. “Bye Aunty”, I said.
“Bye Beta”, I saw the last look on her face which saw the loneliness that was going to come.
She closed the door.
I stopped at the stairs.
I cried for the lady who “sent” her love many a times… but did not “receive” anything in return…
I really must say there will be many moms who must be having the same situation as mentioned above.
Lets not forget the person who loves us more than we love ourselves …

THE WEDDING CHRONICLES – THE DAWN OR DUSK?

They say persuasion can change the strongest of decisions. And when that persuasion comes from your mother, there is nothing you can say or do. I had to give in to my mother’s persuasion and unveil the person I wanted to spend my life with. It went exactly the same way I had anticipated it. A lot of yelling followed by a whole lot of sarcastic comments for the next few days.
Every small point of discussion which would involve me trying to convince my mother would eventually end at one line “I don’t know how I can trust you now. Only you know what all you have been hiding!” And I would think, “What! What has taking the car out for the weekend outing go to do with trust!?”
But that is how the atmosphere would be for the next few days.

All this time, I had been wondering how things would unfold the day I break the news to my family, the day I agree to marry, the wedding day. But now that reality took over, unfortunately, everything happened the same way I had expected it to be. I had a scary but memorable wedding and after all the hoopla, I was married and started a new life.
I always imagined how it would be to have another unfortunate soul enter my life. And the kind of life I have led, it would need a herculean effort from that person just to hang on for dear life.
I was under the impression that once the wedding is done, once I am not single anymore, things wouldn’t be that different. All that would change is that I would have another person around me who would be interested in everything I do, who would be a part of my daily agenda.
I couldn’t be more wrong; I had underestimated the changes in my life to such an extent that it was me, not her, who was hanging on by the scruff of the neck, each and every day.

I was all set, mentally and physically to start a new life; to have one more women scrutinize my life every day. I thought if I can handle one person keeping a tab on me, I can surely handle one more. Besides, the person I married is a calm and sober person. Things should be easy.
The first few days were pleasant. I had devoted all my time to my wife and things were moving ever so smoothly. I thought.. “Aah… piece of cake”
After this, so called break from reality, I had to rejoin work after a few days. That day, I woke up, did my daily activities, said goodbye to my mother and was off to work. On my way, I thought, did I forget something?
I put a little pressure on my not so able brain and realized “Holy mother of God, my wife!! She was supposed to rejoin with me and I had forgotten to even tell her that I was leaving!!! I am so dead”
I rushed back home and there she was; hands on her hips, waiting to pounce on me like a predator pounces on a helpless prey. But to my surprise, all she did was look at me, and turn away. I knew that this could not end so easily. It had to be the silence before the storm. And what a storm it was.

I always thought that my mother was the undisputed champion at sarcastic one liner, but I just married a strong contender for that title. The sarcastic comments thrown at me that day were so complex that it took me minutes to figure out what the taunt was all about! It was like the questions in your SAT exams, the answers were right there but you still didn’t know what the hell the question meant!
For the next few days, I had to keep a reminder in my phone to remind me not to do such a life threatening mistake again. Once that was sorted out, things went back to normal.

There are some things that were beyond my control. People used to advice me to balance my time between my parents and my wife and I thought it shouldn’t be difficult. There would be days when neither my mother nor my wife would talk to me when I returned from work and I was left wondering what in god’s name did I do now?
When I asked my mother what happened, all I would get is a cold look. And my wife would give me an even colder look. And being the guy I am, I wanted to tell them “I am not even going to ask you guys what happened, ‘cause I don’t care”. I couldn’t say this loud ‘cause that would spark off a war bigger than the cold war already going on.
At the dinner table, you could cut the tension with a knife. So I tried to cool things down a little by making a fake office story, just to divert their attention.
“You know, today my manager said…. Blah blah blah and and I fought with him” I said
All I got was “Hmmm”
Then I said “You know today I went to the balcony of my office and jumped off 10 floors only to land on my feet”. And again all I got is “Hmmmmm”.
That’s when I realized that they weren’t listening and all they wanted me to say is two words - “What happened”. Being the fool I am to flirt with disaster, I said those very two words.
What I got in return was a 1000 page detailed report of the entire situation, one from my mother and one from my wife. Unfortunately for me, God did not like me either ‘cause both of those were completely contradictory. And I was the judge of the last hearing of a criminal at death row.
All I said was “The court is adjourned for the day. Next hearing will be tomorrow morning”
In the night I opted for a dubious plan. I told my mother “Mom, I don’t care what happened. I will see to it that I teach her a lesson for messing with you. I don’t want to talk to her” and I said the same to my wife. Remarkably, my mom and my wife said “Hey its ok. Leave it. It was actually my fault. Ignore it”
And the issue was settled. I know this sounds twisted and wrong but that solved the issue and I was ok with that.
I tried this solution a few more times, changing the line I used of course but the content was the same. It worked the first few times but then they were too smart to fall for it all the time.
Soon I learned to live with that. And pretty soon both of them got along so well that they were inseparable. That day I treated all my friends to a royal dinner.

Life went on really smoothly until one day…. I heard the news…..” you are going to be a father”
At first I was overwhelmed with tension and apprehensions. How could I be responsible for one more life!! If my kid turns out to be half as bad as me, I am dead.
But everything changed the day I held the baby in my hand; it’s a feeling like no other.

My son grew and so did I; both in our own ways. I wanted to make sure that he didn’t turn out to be anything like me else my family would royally kill me.
My son would ask me weird questions that I couldn’t dare to answer; like “Dad, so many times I have seen you and mom fight like gladiators but the next morning you two behave like nothing even happened!”
I would be speechless for a minute and then I would say “Go ask your mother this question. And when you get an answer, tell me too!”
I would see my son do all kind of stuffs as he grows that probably I did too but still I couldn’t digest it.
As I grew old I pondered about my life, reflecting how I spent it and I realized, all my apprehensions about marriage was just natural. What followed after those were a few pleasant dreams intertwined with a million never-ending nightmares that grew to be a part of my life, my married life.

ABCD to GHI

I was wading through Wikipedia, trying to look for the meaning for a certain term and I stumbled upon ABCD. Now I know most of us, I for one, thought that these are just the starting letters in the English alphabets but what Wikipedia threw at me was amazing.

ABCD stands for American Born Confused Desi.

At first I was very offended by the fact that a globally renowned site like Wikipedia would list such a racist definition, but then I realized that it actually was true, unfortunate, but true. A lot of us Indians move to the US/UK etc. and settle there for good. Our kids are born in these countries and turn into a medley of Indo-American or Indo-British soups of culture.

Here’s an account of two guys sitting in the waiting lounge at Mumbai International Airport. One of them is an “ABCD” another is an absolute patriot in his early 40s, who I simply call - Indian.

Both of them were supposed to catch a Northwest KLM flight to Newark Airport, New Jersey. The flight got delayed by a couple of hours due to bad weather and both had to wait at the waiting lounge.

The ABCD was getting jittery after a few minutes and started babbling. “Man! Indian airports are a mess, the seats are as hard as stone and the Air conditioning does not work either!”

The Indian happened to overhear this conversation and since he was getting bored himself, tried to strike a conversation with ABCD. Here’s how it goes…

Indian : Hey… I am Sandeep…

ABCD : Hmmm… ok..

Indian : (thinking.. someone does not want to talk today) you are headed to New Jersey right.

ABCD : yeah.. why?

Indian : Nothing, just curious since I was headed that way too. KLM..

The flight seems to be delayed by a couple of hours (with a smile)

ABCD : Ok.. yeah… as expected, I don’t think anything runs on time in this country (with a sly smile). Oh, by the way, I am Paddy

Indian : Paddy.. that’s a nice name.. is it short for something or is it just paddy?

ABCD : Just paddy…

Indian : You were talking about things not being on time in India. Incase you didn’t notice, its raining cats and dogs outside. I don’t think the pilot can take off under these circumstances.

ABCD : Well, if the pilot is an American, trained perfectly with the latest equipments for hours on a flight simulator, he would surely be able to take off.

Indian : I don’t think the best of simulators would help in this weather, would it?

ABCD : That’s what you think (smiles away). Anyways, forget the weather, don’t you think atleast the airport should have been better! You Indians love to adjust in what you have don’t you.

Indian : YOU Indians?? What are you?

ABCD : I am an American, green card holder, citizen of the United States. ( and the smile got wider)

I was here to meet with my folks (for those who don’t know, folks refers to family and friends). Man, am I happy that the trip is over!!

Indian : Why? What is it that you hate about India so much?

ABCD : Oh, don’t get me started! Absolutely hopeless roads, hopeless people, filth everywhere and pollution enough to kill anyone of lung cancer!!

Indian : ok.. go on (with a curious eyes, waiting for the ABCD to complete so that he can nail him right to the floor)

ABCD : People here are stuck in their traditional norms hell bent on not developing into what other countries have. All they value is their culture and the million relations that they have.

Indian : Ok. Tell me one thing if it’s not too personal. How many people in the US care about you?

ABCD : Huh? A lot… I got a million friends.

Indian : No no.. you didn’t get me. How many people CARE about you.

ABCD : (Silent)

Indian : Ok, whom do you turn to when you run out of money, if you do.

ABCD : My parents.

Indian : Why?

ABCD : (Silent)

Indian : Let me tell you, the friends you have might run away from you in tough times before you can even blink. You think they care about you? Try this out. Get back home and tell each one of them, you are out of money, and you need $4000. See what happens.

ABCD : (A little angry) I will not run out of money and even if I do, I don’t think I have to test my friends.

Ok, why do you think Indians are still in poverty? Why do we see beggers all over the place. ‘Cause we are not good enough. Period.

Indian : Ok, you tell me. Who is your boss?

ABCD : Mahesh Srinivas

Indian : An Indian? That’s strange. Ok, who is his boss?

ABCD : I think its Amar Krishnan.. (now he gets the point)

Indian : Another Indian!! You are right. We are NOT good enough.

ABCD : That’s because this country is not able to provide enough money to these smart Indians and they have to run to the US (thinks, yeah, finally I got one strong one on this Indian)

Indian : True. Which is why companies around the globe like Microsoft, IBM, CISCO, Intel and financial firms and banks like Deutche Bank, Lehmann Brothers, Bank Of America are outsourcing most of its works to Indian IT firms.

The fact that we ask for less money does not mean that this country is NOT able to provide for the billions of its people.

Forget about outsourcing for cheap labor, most of the companies I listed earlier prefer to open their offices in countries like India because of the sheer brain power we Indians possess.

ABCD : OK… but as I said before, have you seen the roads and filth around?

Indian : Do you know the population of India? Its over 1000 million as compared to 300 million of the US. This 1000 million are filled in 300,000 square kilometers area as compared to 1000,000 square kms, more than 4 times the size of India.

Try filling a can of beans with 4 more can of beans and see the FILTH you get!!!

Having said that, the dirt is an issue which is being taken care slowly by the country.

I do not want to open a fact file on you, but if you check all the facts about India right now, you would find that 20% of all top posts in the world are taken by Indians. We are the best at everything we do. Period.

Ok. Tell me truthfully, whats your real name?

ABCD : Its Pratham

Indian : Wow. Do you know what it means? It means FIRST. ‘cause you are from a country which is at the pinnacle, PRATHAM in all regards all over the world.

Being an Indian, I would expect you to understand the true wealth of this country.

It’s a shame that Indians are not valued by Indians themselves.

I am not going to give you a history lesson about India. All I would expect is for you to realize that despite all the years you have spent in the US, you ARE AN INDIAN.

Oh by the way, I am Sandeep Gopal, Regional head of the East Coast, Spacecenter.

After this conversation, a disgruntled ABCD proceeded toward immigration and later boarded the plane.

Next to him was an American named Jonathan.

Finally I have a decent American to talk to, he thought.

He spoke to the American, “Hey! I am Paddy.”

“Hi, I’m John.. Jonathan infact” he replied.

“Man am I glad to see you next to me John. I just got bugged by an Indian for over 2 hours!!

So you here on a pleasure trip?”

John replies “Oh no! I work here…”

“What!! Here.. as in India!!” asks a shocked ABCD

“yeah! I’ve been here since 10 years now. I started my family here. Married a beautiful Indian. And I couldn’t be happier”

“Were you forced to come down here to work”

“No. I chose to come here. I was a little skeptical at the beginning, but after a few months, I realized that this country unlike any other has something that no other country does, culture”

ABCD had a long conversation with John and realized that John, an American by birth knew much more about India than he did.

After the flight, the ABCD from India realized what the Indian in the waiting lounge was trying to say. As clichéd as it may sound, our ABCD had surely progressed to change from a typical ABCD – American born confused desi, to a GHI – A Globally Honored Indian.

THE WEDDING CHRONICLES : DOOMS DAY

A lot of us are skeptical when it comes to tying the knot with someone. And as you might have known from my previous saga, I am on top of that list.

But I wanted to give this another thought. They say experience can only be experienced so I wanted to “experience the experience” before I pass my judgment. But then if the experience turns out to be bitter, I wouldn’t have a chance to undo it. So I decided that instead of experiencing it, I will think about what the experience would be like. Fair enough considering that I wanted to remain a bachelor for the rest of my life. A thought is a great step forward isn’t it?

So here’s how my thoughts about my wedding chronicles on the dooms day unwound.

Now after the wedding day was fixed, I started the countdown. 100 days to Armageddon. 90 days to Judgment day. 45 days to apocalypse and finally, 1 day to dooms day.

In weddings from different countries, you book a church, a father reads you the same old lines that exist from centuries “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here… blah blah blah and a big story…. Do you take this biggest fool on earth to marry you… to be your lawfully wedded man” and the girl says “Yes” and the father thinks “What!” and the same is repeated for the guy and the wedding is done. Filito.

But in Indian weddings, the wedding is an affair that lasts for 2 to 3 days with expenses that would be enough to buy you a house. All bore by the poor girl’s father.

Here’s the best part about Indian weddings, you have a million people attending it, out of which over half a million of them don’t really know you and about 90% of the rest of them are more happy that you are getting married than you yourself are!

And the remaining 10%, well, if you are a guy, they pray that the girl marrying you turns out to be the scariest vamp of the Indian soap opera and completely smothers you and family for space. And if you are a girl, they hope that the guy doesn’t turn out to be better than the guy they chose for their daughters.

Now the wedding.

It all starts with a lot of art work on the girl. The girl is completely painted, so much so, that you completely forget what the original complexion of the girl is!

And then a lot of people are singing and dancing around you saying, “the girl is leaving us, its so sad!” Then why make her a scapegoat people?!

The singing and dancing reminded me of some South American countries where after someone dies, the people do not cry but infact sing and dance in front of the dead persons procession. It also reminded me of the singing people do in rural India when they are taking a scapegoat to be butchered.

Now coming to the guy – Mua – side. We do nothing. All the guys side do is pray that the girl doesn’t screw his life. And then wait for the dooms day – the wedding day.

On the wedding day, something hit me. I was going to be forced to sit on a horse dressed like a king!!

And I would be paraded from my house to the wedding place! Holy mother of God!

I saw a lot of people with cameras, giggling around and I prayed “Oh god, let this video NOT be put on YOUTUBE. It would get a million hits instantly, mostly from my friends!”

But then I realized that we don’t have horses in our wedding. Whoa! What a relief!

Later, both I and my future wife are dressed to look like 15^th century kings and queens.

I first sit in front of a fire, symbolizing and even telling me that “This is what you are getting into”. The pundit chants a million lines of prayers in 10 seconds.

About the prayers, I once saw God – yes God – in one of the weddings. I asked him “God, what are you doing in a wedding!” He said “Boy, this man right here chants something at the speed of light which includes my name once in a while. I am here to try and figure out what in my name (He actually wanted to say ‘what in God’s name’ but then realized he himself is God) is this guy trying to tell me!!!

Ok coming back to my wedding, I waited and waited and waited for the pundit to stop his rant so that we can get this over with. And then she arrived. I looked at the girl coming closer and then frantically looked around. I said, “This is not the girl I am supposed to marry! Where is she?”

They had dressed her up so much that she was beyond recognition! After a lot of confirmation I concluded that it was indeed her.

The chants went on and 90% of the million people in the wedding were cursing me because they were extremely hungry and wanted to dive into the 10 course meal waiting for them. The chants or should I say rants concluded and everyone started throwing kilograms and kilograms of rice on us. There was enough rice on us to cook a meal.

All said and done, the moment had come. I tied the knot. Alas!

Then came the best part of the wedding – the reception.

I remember when I was a bachelor and attended a wedding; I would group with my friends and mock the husband and wife since they became a showpiece. I did not expect God to get back to me in such a way that I myself would be the showpiece.

As I and my wife stood there with everyone staring at us, passing comments, laughing, mocking and doing everything that we did as bachelors. Everyone at the wedding place would come one by one and reluctantly give us gifts thinking “This guy gave me 101 Rs in my wedding and I have to give him a 1000 Rs gift. Not fair!”

Once the gift saga ended, the wedding concluded and we both we left alone. I thought “Aah! Peace at last”

And a voice rung in my ears, “Honey! What would you like to have? When do we leave? Would you hold this please? Where is my family? Where is your family? Did man really land on the moon?” “huh?”

And I went.. “No! No!”

I realized, I cannot do this. No way in hell.

I went and told my mother, “Mom, remember how I told you I wouldn’t marry for 10 years?”

She said with a happy face, “Yes, have you changed your mind”

I said “Yes, make that 20 years now!”