Wednesday, December 6, 2006

Dilbert & Me

Dilbert, stripped by Scott Adams, is acclaimed around the Globe. I read the first strip only after joining a software firm. What attracted me the most was his similarity with my own disastrous life in the company. Like every youth, I was also a megalomaniac, Pollyanna creature with lots of dreams stuffed in my head. After the pre-university education I aspired to be a social servant and to opt sociology as my elective, but the circumstances pulled me into a whole new world of electromagnetism and transistors. As the theory of ‘Survival of the Fittest’ suggests we had to plunge ourselves in the ocean of Engineering for long years and then suddenly for our revival, came the placements. I considered myself fortuitous to be a part of the Indian MNC, which offered me a job.

The very first day we joined the company, I recognized that this was not the place I dreamt about. There was a huge difference in the pay offered and availed. If realistic and powered with self-esteem, boy it is not right place for you too. This is how I became a fan of Dilbert. Adams has succeeded in portraying each traits of software professional. In PacaficBell (like my Indian MNC) he also faces the same kind of threats from superiors and colleagues. Now as I have already completed one year of valuable work in the firm, and forcefully looking forward to one more year of fruitful association, only way out of boredom is to be a paranoid. This place has taught me lessons like how to project yourself. You do all the crap work, or do nothing at all, but pretend as if the whole institution is run by you. I found out most characters of Dilbert in my office, except Alice.


Read more!

Girl Friends

Every normal person will have some sweet memoirs entrenched in a locked compartment of his heart. It can be his first date, a girl from his early neighbourhood or even his primary school mate. For me, whatever is the reason, whether that I am a mirror cracking material or that I am so fluent in front of the cuties, nostalgia always meant ‘my school’.
Being the brainchild of late Prime Minister Rajeev Gandhi, Navodaya Vidyalayas are now in almost every district of our nation. Aimed at building up human resources for the nation (Alas! I am also one), government is having a generous budget for these institutions.
As I hail from the prestigious metropolitan of Pathanamthitta, Kerala, I left my primary school and joined Navodaya of our district on May 1993. You may never have experienced the tenderness of staying away from your beloved ones at an age when you cannot make out why you are forced to do so. It is easier said than done scenario to withstand when beloved seniors are treating you like untouchables. I consider this as a schooling to triumph over all the difficulties of life.
The very first day seniors made us to dance and sing for them. At Mess hall, also there was a drastic plot waiting for us. The super seniors getting in between the line always stretched the mile long queue for food. However, as nature’s rule to be moulded with surroundings, after few initial troubles, we were the happiest kids of the locality and pets of all our teachers. They cared us like mother bird protecting children within wings. I still remember a good number of them and feel like I have to call them often.
First two years were smooth as I was luckily among the toppers and all of a sudden in eighth class; I was made to sit just behind the girls. I cannot forget my days wasted (?) flirting with the girls and frankly, I fell in love with two of them. Robin Hood in me had forced myself to write a letter to one of them, which wrecked as one of the worst tragedies of my life.
My Princess was supposed to come for study at 6.30pm. Keeping all the timings and security concerns, (this made me to avoid names) I succeeded in placing the letter in her English textbook. Our teacher wanted a textbook, and my ill fortune made her to take the very same textbook to staff room. Being a regular reader of Sherlock Holmes, she traced my handwriting and the letter pad gifted by my sister, as I had already shown her. She asked me about my role and now my inner self was giving warning alarms. The roof above me was just revolving. Somehow, I have to stretch out. I said her that one of my friends, cannot expose his name since he trusted me, is in deep love with the girl. He asked my assistance and innocence made me involved with out concerning about the after effects. I still doubt whether she digested the whole story but it was a nice excuse. She advised me a lot about my bad company and relieved me. Afterwards she used to tip this in a roundabout way to our class. Whenever we tell something we are capable of, she used to ask how a person who cannot give love letter to addressee is going to do it. I never again dared to write one. Thus, I lost my Princess forever, as my letter and its oxford language never reached her.
The second thread was worse. We chatted a lot, fought a lot, and finally when I felt like “ok, she is what I was looking for”, fate made us apart. She was shifted to another school, which was so far away, and both of us were missing mobile phones. I wanted to trace her but pulled out as she joined the same school where my uncle is a teacher. Experiences made me learn that everyone has a point in life and no other girl would match you. So I decided to be content and seek out for the next lone.
Another unforgettable incident happened when we were in 8th standard. For whatever reason, one of our seniors committed suicide in the hostel room. Police enquiry was going on and most of the super seniors were in the witness list. School authorities wanted to keep the good will of the school and hence they sought these students to support them. This forced them to keep quite against the atrocities by some seniors. These days, one girl of our division fell in love with a super senior, and every day they used to chat in the first floor portico. We came to know about this and as the self-proclaimed advisory committee, we reminded her about the extravagant qualities of her BF. As add-on, we told her that the boy is holding relationships with other girls too. It was a slip of tongue. We were jealous since she was very beautiful and every one of us had an eye on her. This reached Romeo and from the D-day, they started targeting us. We always feared them and I still wonder what on the hell made us to do so. End result was that I can sing national anthem exactly in 53 sec. due to the incessant practice they gave. Even I can do part time as a Dhobi (washer man), as I have washed that much clothes for them. Anyway, we avenged them after one year when they revisited the school for alumni. How we did that is a secret. Now I have no information about Romeo and Juliet as the chain of contact broke when they left the school.
Read more!

Tuesday, December 5, 2006

One Night @ CallCenter - Review

Chetan Bhagat had astounded the literary world by his first work, Five Point Someone . But the next work “ One night @ Call Center ” hasn’t reached up to the expectations of the reader. I felt that he added too much imagination to the thread. Chetan succeeded in keeping the drama in the beginning, but afterwards the narration is dragging.

The part where all the Team Leaders reporting to Shyam and Varun (at the end when they are trying to boost call traffic), is a bit ridiculous. In reality you can’t even think about such a scenario where the much expectable hierarchy pleads its bottom level for a harmonious result. Also their plan for the moment is not convincing, since it is by spreading rumors about a computer virus, and not a single investigation agency in USA is bothered about it when Uncle Sam is calling India for support. He has also mistaken the Microsoft usage of = rand(x,y) as a bug, than to a testing function. These things are least expected when author wants to portray his work in real situation, as readers will be doubtful about the practicality of the scenario.
Except for a few loopholes, Chetan succeeded in filling flesh and blood to the characters and over all the work can be rated as above average. It is a complicated story written in simple language.
In a nutshell Chetan narrates the story as recited to him by a girl he met during a train journey. It is about a night of work at a call center. Shyam is an Agent while every one else of his family is an Engineer or Doctor. Chetan tells us that still the society is based on the division of labour. Shyam’s colleagues include his ex-girlfriend Priyanka , Varun , Military Uncle whose son is settled in USA, Esha who dreams to be a super model and have twice dumped Varun’s proposal and Radhika who is married to her boy friend.
That day was very crucial in their life since the company is planning to right size the employs due to drop in the call rate due to a web site designed by Shyam and Varun for the company. Their manager, Mr. Bakshi have claimed all the credits for the site and they are left with little chance.
Shyam has been denied his promotions twice due to his irresponsibility and Priyanka also split up due to the same reason. Her new Boy friend is working in Microsoft and her mother also prefer him.
That night they receive a call. Caller is nobody other than God . Reader is always anxious to know what was the conversation about. The book also picturize terrific disasters happening to Esha and Radhika and how they are overcoming it. Whether the team can avoid employ shedding and if couples reunite? You can feel the instability in a call center job, once you are through this book.
Read more!