Saturday, March 03, 2007

Customer Delight!!! The shell outlet way!

Customer Delight is a neologism that happens to be a part of every corporate wish list. Why would it not be? This phrase by definition is a ‘Measure or determination that a product or service exceeds a customer's expectations, considering requirements of both quality and service’. If your product or service achieves this then your customers stay with you. Voila we have a win-win.

This concept is so amazing that it can get a lazy blogger to come out with a post consisting of management clichés on a blog left untouched for more than 5 months. The reason behind this new found urge to update the blog was a visit to one of the new Shell Petrol Bunks in the city. As I rode to college this morning, my fuel went into reserve right outside the bunk in question. So I thought it would be a nice idea to check this new guy out.

As soon as I entered there was a guy with a red flashlight (of the kind the traffic cops wield) who directed me to the smallest queue. This activity on any other outlet would have cost some precious processing time in my own head and I usually get it wrong. And there was a lady at the dispenser who greeted me with a warm ‘Vanakkam Sir’ with hands folded. Boy I was feeling like a king. I was requested to get off the seat and she made sure that I saw the ‘Zero’. I normally insist on a bill and have endured long waits to get it done at all other Public Sector Outlets. But on this occasion, before I could complete saying ‘bill’ I was handed a nice little printout with every detail of the transaction. They sure got me floored. What’s more the bill was printed out in the dispenser itself. Smart use of technology does work wonders. And the bunk attendant bade me good bye, asked me to ‘Drive Safe’ and not to forget getting my air checked for free on the way out.

Shell definitely exceeded my expectations, considering requirements of both quality and service. Oh my god, the definition says ‘both quality and service’. Service, yes, I’ve experienced it first hand, but what about quality? So here comes the work for the skeptic in me. Are they blinding me towards their inconsistencies in quality with clever salesmanship? Is the vanakkam meant for diverting my attention?

It would take some time to check my mileage to check the quality. But the restless me won’t wait for long. As soon as I got back home, I decided to find out what fellow netizens feel about this? Here’s what I got.
http://silkboard.wordpress.com/2006/08/22/mileage-and-petrol-bungling-shell-shocked/
This was really reassuring. Many thanks to whoever contributed.


For those of you who might want to give Shell a try, here’s a list of their outlets in India


http://www.shell.com/home/Framework?siteId=in-en&FC2=/in-en/html/iwgen/shell_for_motorists/site_locator/zzz_lhn.html&FC3=/in-en/html/iwgen/shell_for_motorists/site_locator/dir_station_locator_0504.html

I just hope that this is not a mere market skimming strategy and they maintain their standards for a long time to come.

Labels: , , ,

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Hail the Malkin!!

3rd September 2006 was one of the very few interesting days that I came across in my life at MNMJEC. It was the day when MNM Jain Engineering College chose to confer the “Best social worker-engineer” (what weird nomenclature!) award to Mrs.Sudha Murthy, Chairperson of the Infosys Foundation. I was looking forward to the occasion coz we’ve never had someone so eminent address us before. Many mistook my eagerness to attend as loyalty towards the “malkin” of the company in which I’m placed. But the truth is that I’ve always admired her. She was impressive with her “Wise and Unwise”.

I was all the more impressed after listening to her live and decided to find out more about her. When I googled for info, I found this piece in which she talks about NRN. This made me really happy coz I am 5’4 and I am an introvert. LONG LIVE SENSIBLE WOMEN!!! Read on and find out why…


SUDHA MURTHY, AUTHOR AND WIFE OF INFOSYS CHAIRMAN NARAYANA MURTHY, TELLS THE STORY OF HOW INFOSYS WAS BORN AND HOW HER LIFE HAS CHANGED... YET REMAINED VERY MUCH THE SAME

I was in Pune that I met Narayana Murthy through my friend Prasanna, who is now the Wipro chief, who was also training in Telco. Murthy was shy, bespectacled and an introvert. When he invited us for dinner, I was a bit taken aback... I refused since I was the only girl in the group. But Murthy was relentless and we all decided to meet for dinner the next day at 7.30 pm at Green Fields Hotel on Pune's Main Road. The next day, I went there at seven since I had to go to the tailor near the hotel. And what do I see? Mr Murthy waiting in front of the hotel and it was only seven. Till today, Murthy maintains that I had mentioned (consciously!) that I would be going to the tailor at seven, so that I could meet him... And I maintain that I did not say any such thing, consciously or subconsciously, because I did not think of Murthy as anything other than a friend at that stage. We have agreed to disagree on this matter. Soon, we became friends. Our conversations were filled with Murthy's experiences abroad and the books that he had read. My friends insisted that Murthy was trying to impress me because he was interested in me. I kept denying it till one day, after dinner, Murthy said, I want to tell you something. I knew this was it. It was coming. He said, I am 5'4" tall. I come from a lower middleclass family. I can never become rich. You are beautiful, bright, intelligent and you can get anyone you want. But will you marry me?I asked him to give me some time...When I went to Hubli, I told my parents about Murthy and his proposal. My mother was positive since Murthy was also from Karnataka, seemed intelligent and came from a good family. But my father asked: What's his job, his salary, his qualifications, etc? Murthy was working as a research assistant and earning less than me. He was willing to go Dutch with me on our outings.My parents agreed to meet him in Pune on a particular day at 10 am sharp. Murthy did not turn up. How can I trust a man to take care of my daughter if he cannot keep an appointment, asked my father. At 12 noon, Murthy turned up in a bright red shirt! He had gone on work to Bombay, got stuck in a traffic jam in the ghats, so he hired a taxi (though it was very expensive for him) to meet his would-be father-in-law. Father was unimpressed. He asked Murthy what he wanted to become in life. Murthy said he wanted to become a politician in the Communist Party and wanted to open an orphanage. My father gave his verdict. No. I don't want my daughter to marry somebody who wants to become a communist and then open an orphanage when he himself doesn't have money to support his family...By this time, I realised I had developed a liking towards Murthy, which could only be termed as love. I wanted to marry him because he was an honest man. I promised my father that I would not marry Murthy without his blessings, though at the same time, I would not marry anybody else. My father said he would agree if Murthy promised to take up a steady job. But Murthy refused, saying he would not do things in life because somebody wanted him to. I was caught between the two most important people in my life. The stalemate continued for three years, during which our courtship took us to every restaurant and cinema hall in Pune. Murthy was always broke. (Ironically, today, he manages Infosys Technologies Ltd, one of the world's most reputed companies.) He always owed me money. We used to go for dinner and he would say, I don t have money with me, you pay my share, will return it to you later. For three years, I maintained a book of Murthy's debts to me. No, he never returned the money and I finally tore it up after our wedding. The amount was a little over Rs 4,000. During this period, Murthy quit his job as a research assistant and started his own software business... Towards the late'70s computers were entering India in a big way. At the fag end of 1977, Murthy decided to take up a job as General Manager at Patni Computers in Bombay. But before he joined the company, he wanted to marry me since he was to go on training to the US after, joining. My father gave in as he was happy Murthy had a decent job, now. We were married in Murthy's house in Bangalore on February 10, 1978, with only our two families present. I got my first silk sari. The wedding expenses came to only Rs 800, with Murthy and I pooling in Rs 400 each. I went to the US with Murthy after marriage. He encouraged me to see America on my own, because I loved travelling. I toured America for three months with a backpack. In 1981, Murthy wanted to start Infosys. Initially, I was very apprehensive about him getting into business. We were living a comfortable life in Bombay with a regular paycheck and I didn't want to rock the boat. But Murthy was passionate about creating good quality software. I decided to support him. Typically for Murthy, he had a dream and no money. So I gave him Rs 10,000 which I had saved for a rainy day without his knowledge and told him, this is all I have. Take it. I will take care of the financial needs of our house. You go and chase your dreams. But you have only three years! Murthy and his six colleagues started Infosys in 1981. In 1982, I left Telco and moved to Pune with Murthy. We bought a small house on loan, which also became the Infosys office. I was a clerk-cum-cook-cumprogrammer. I also took up a job as Senior Systems Analyst with the Walchand group of Industries to support the house. In'83, Infosys got their first client, MICO, in Bangalore. Murthy moved to Bangalore and stayed with his mother, while I went to Hubli to deliver my second child, Rohan. Ten days after my son was born, Murthy left for the US on project work. I saw him only after a year - my son had infantile eczema. It was only after Rohan received all his vaccinations that I came to Bangalore where we rented a small house in Jayanagar and rented another house as Infosys headquarters. Nandan Nilekani and his wife Rohini stayed with us. While Rohini babysat my son, I wrote programmes for Infosys. There was no car, no phone, just two kids and a bunch of us working hard, juggling our lives and having fun while Infosys was taking shape. The wives of other partners too, gave their unstinting support. We all knew that our men were trying to build something good.Murthy made it very clear that it would either be me or him working at Infosys. Never the two of us together. He did not want a husband and wife team at Infosys. I was shocked since I had the relevant experience and technical qualifications. He said, Sudha if you want to work with Infosys, I will withdraw, happily I was pained to know that I would not be involved in the company my husband was building and that I would have to give up a job that I was qualified to do and loved doing... Then, I realised that to make Infosys a success, one had to give 100 per cent. One had to be focused on it alone, with no other distractions. If the two of us had to give 100 per cent to Infosys, what would happen to our home and our children? I opted to be a homemaker; after all, Infosys was Murthy's dream. It was a big sacrifice, but it was one that had to be made. Even today, Murthy says, Sudha, I stepped on your career to make mine. You are responsible for my success.I might have given up my career for my husband's sake, but that does not make me a doormat... Isn't freedom about living your life the way you want it? What is right for one person might be wrong for another. It is up to the individual to make a choice that is effective in her life. I believe that when a woman gives up her right to choose for herself, that is when she crosses over from being an individual to a doormat.Murthy's dreams encompassed not only himself, but a generation of people. It was about creating something worthy, exemplary and honourable. It was about creation and distribution of wealth. His dreams were grander than my career plans, in all aspects. So, when I had to choose between Murthy's career and mine, I opted for what I thought was the right choice. We had a home and two little children. Somebody had to take care of it all. Somebody had to stay behind to create a home base that would be fertile for healthy growth, happiness, and more dreams to dream. I became that somebody willingly I can confidently say that if I had had a dream like Infosys, Murthy would have given me his unstinted support. The roles would have been reversed. We are not bound by the archaic rules of marriage. He does not intrude into my time, especially when I am writing my novels. He does not interfere in my work at the Infosys Foundation and I don't interfere with the running of Infosys. I teach computer science to MBA and MCA students at Christ College for a few hours every week and I earn around Rs 50,000 a year. I value this financial independence greatly, though there is no need for me to pursue a career. Murthy respects that. I travel the world without him, because he hates travelling. We trust each other implicitly. We have another understanding too. While he earns the money, I spend it mostly through charity. The Infosys Foundation was born in 1997 with the sole objective of uplifting the less-privileged sections of society. In the past three years, we have built hospitals, orphanages, rehabilitation centres, school buildings, science centres and more than 3,500 libraries. Our work is mainly in the rural areas amongst women and children. I am one of the trustees of the Foundation, and our activities span six states. I travel to around 800 villages constantly. Every year, we donate around Rs 5-6 crores. We run Infosys Foundation the way Murthy runs Infosys - in a professional and scientific way. Philanthropy is a profession and an art. It can be used or misused. Every year, we receive more than 10,000 applications for donations. Every day, I receive more than 120 calls. Amongst these, there are those who genuinely need help and there are hoodwinkers too. Over the years, I have learnt to differentiate the wheat from the chaff, though I still give all the cases a patient hearing. Sometimes, I feel I have lost the ability to trust people. I have become shrewder to avoid being conned. I think that is the price that I have to pay for the position I am in now. The greatest difficulty in having money is to teach your children its value... Bringing up children in a moneyed atmosphere is a difficult task. Even today, I think twice if I have to spend Rs 10 on an auto when I can walk to my house. I cannot expect my children to do the same. They have seen money from the time they were born. But we can lead by example. When they see Murthy wash his own plate after eating and clean the two toilets in the house every day, they realise that no work is demeaning, irrespective of how rich you are. This doesn't mean we expect our children to live an austere life. My children buy what they want, go where they want, but they have to follow certain rules. They have to show me bills for whatever they buy: My daughter can buy five new outfits, but she has to give away five old ones. My son can go out with his friends for lunch or dinner, but we discourage him from going to a five star hotel. Or we accompany him. My children haven't given me any heartbreak. My daughter is studying abroad, my son in Bangalore. They don t use their father's name in vain. They only say that his name is Murthy and that he works for Infosys. They don't want to be recognised and appreciated because of their father or me, but for themselves.I don't feel guilty about having money, for we have worked hard for it. But I don't feel comfortable flaunting it. It is a conscious decision on our part to live a simple, so-called middle class life. We live in the same two-bedroom, sparsely furnished house we lived in before Infosys became a success. Our only extravagance is buying books and CDs. My house has no lockers for I have no jewels. I wear a pair of stone earrings which I bought in Bombay for Rs 100. I don, t even wear my `mangalsutra` unless I need to attend some family functions or when I am with my mother-in-law. Five years ago, I went to Kashi, where tradition demands that you give something up. I gave up shopping. Since then, I haveri t bought myself a sari or gone shopping. I don't carry a purse and neither does Murthy, most of the time. I borrow money from my secretary or my driver if I need cash. They know my habit, so they always carry extra cash with them. But I settle the accounts every evening. Murthy and I are very comfortable with our lifestyle and we don't see the need to change it now that we have money:Murthy and I are two opposites that complement each other. Murthy is sensitive and romantic in his own way. He always gifts me books addressed 'From Me to You. Or'To the person I most admire, etc. We both love books. I am an extrovert and he is an introvert. I love watching movies and listening to classical music. Murthy loves listening to English classical music. I go out for movies with my students and secretary every other week. I am still young at heart. I really enjoyed watching'Kaho Na Pyaar Hai'; I am a Hrithik Roshan fan. It has been more than 20 years since Murthy and I went for a movie. My daughter once gave us a surprise by booking tickets for'Titanic'. Since I had a prior engagement that day, Murthy went for the movie with his secretary Pandu. I love travelling, whereas Murthy loves spending time at home. Friends come and go with the share prices. Even in my dreams, I did not expect Infosys to grow the way it has. After Infosys went public in 1993, we became what people would call rich, moneyed people. Suddenly, you see and hear about so much money: People talk about you. It was all new to me.Have I lost my identity as a woman, in Murthy's shadow? No, I might be Mrs Narayana Murthy. I might be Akshata and Rohan's mother. I might be the trustee of Infosys Foundation. But I am still Sudha. Like all women, I play different roles. That doesn't mean we don't have our own identity. Women have that extra quality of adaptability and learn to fit into different shoes. But we are our own selves still. And we have to exact our freedom by making the right choices in our lives, dictated by us and not by the world.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Mesmerizing Manali





Manali, the famous hill station in Himachal Pradesh, was where we headed to by bus from Delhi. Earlier we took the Chattisgarh Express to reach Delhi from Agra. A tremendous idea by the travel agent to save accommodation cost saw us spend a night in a semi-sleeper bus. It took a mammoth 18 hours to reach Manali, after a series of stops at Dhabas. Yuvan Shankar Raja with his “Enga area ulla varathey” kept us entertained through the journey. There is something about the Dhabas. The rustic charm and round the clock availability of food make them one of a kind. A simple Dal Makhani with a simpler roti could be “nirvana” when you are really hungry. Most of our dinner was made of rotis or bread omlette. The Jains faced a bit of a problem when there were very few vaishno Dhabas available. Some of them survived on Bread and Jam. For me, this was the time I could satisfy my palate coz non-veg was not made at home, though its not exactly forbidden. But terrifying thoughts of an upset digestive system in the midst of a journey made me restrict myself to eggs.

Manali was certainly mesmerizing with its picturesque landscape. We were put up in a hotel which faced the noisy Beas. Manali is the makeshift jannat on earth as the real jannat is in the hands of terrorists. We traveled along the Beas to a place called Rohtang Pass, 50 KM from Manali. En route, the driver stopped at a fur coat shop. We first thought that it was some sort of an arrangement between the cabbie (yes we hired cabs coz buses weren’t allowed in the hills) and the shop owner. After much persuasion, we reluctantly agreed to hire a furcoat and boots. We were still under the impression that just by traveling an additional 50 KM we weren’t going to get frozen. But, when we actually reached the place, we experienced numbing cold for the first time. But for the fur coat we wouldn’t have returned safely. We did get adventurous and removed our coats to pose for some photographs. Once the photo session was over we hurriedly put on our coats and cuddled to keep ourselves warm. An extra 40 rupees to the driver helped us get to a nearby lake. What was disappointing was that the snow hadn’t set when we visited. If only there were some snow, the trip would have been complete. Anyway, it was an experience of a lifetime and would be fresh in our memories for a long time to come.


We spent two days at Manali. During the short stay there were some interesting encounters with some interesting people. We went shopping late into the night after dinner. People were trying to sell everything from Kesar to sandalwood chessboards. Out in the middle of the Tibetan market was a middle-aged artist. He made his living by painting names on wood and making small impressions. My tete-a-tete with the drunken artist in the middle of the night was really interesting. He asked for excuse when he poured some brandy into his disposable cup, and said he was doing this coz he is really tired after all the work since morning. Like every artist, he was really proud of his work and belittled everyone else doing the same calling those imitations. My first question to him was about the time he opens his shop in the morning, to which he gave an answer which was typical of an artist. He said that he opens the shop only if he is in mood for it and doesn’t mind losing work. I was just too curious to know whether he does something other than this. With a smile he asked, “ Aap Kahan ke rehnewale ho?” (Where do you live?). I told him that I’m from Chennai. He said that his works were exhibited in Valluvar Kottam and his shop had featured on ZEE TV. With the same smile he said “ Mujhe khane peene ko bahut milta hain” ( I get enough food and drink). “ Bus aap mere dimag dekhke paise dijiye”. The artistic arrogance was really awe-inspiring.

Another interesting personality I met in Manali was the young Nepalese cabbie. At first we thought he was a little rude, but as time passed, he became too friendly. He was just too happy to handle cameras. During the trip, we got to hear some really nice Nepalese songs. Almost every song had the word “Kaanchi”. He danced a bit for the songs. He allowed us to get on top of his Tata Sumo. Unfortunately, with nine of us on top, a dent developed in the roof of the car. We thought that he would definitely get angry and charge us for this. But this happy-go lucky man surprised us with a smile. Surely such people make the world interesting.

Manali is a must-see place if you are vacationing in India.

Wah Taj!!!

Agra happened to be the first stop in our itinerary. As usual, the tourism made hasty arrangements for accommodation as they felt that it was meant only to be a refreshment room. Our problems didn’t end there. There was this wily old sardar who wanted us to make a payment of Rs.50000 for bus permits etc. After a lot of negotiations, a consensus was reached and we were all set to visit the Taj.

Agra, to me, came across as a city that has not lost its old world charm, the moghul archways and walls in their various stages of degradation made me believe as if I were exploring the fourth dimension. After someone promised us a smaller queue if we paid 50 rupees for the entire group, we headed towards the Wonder through the narrow streets of the ancient city. A few metal detectors later we underwent a bit of frisking and checking, and finally we were allowed inside the building. It seemed like an entirely new world with all the beautifully maintained gardens and exquisitely architected buildings. And there she was, the eternal symbol of love, the epitome of Indian craftsmanship, Yes I was now head to head with the Taj. With the mighty domes and extraordinarily tall minarets, the Taj showed my digicam the purpose of its manufacture. The delicate artwork on the walls with multicolored stones sourced from all round the globe was just a delight to watch. The Fort, on the other side of the huge but not necessarily beautiful Yamuna, was equally eye-catching.

Despite all this grandeur, the city has its own share of problems. One of the biggest rivers of the country flows through the city and yet there is a serious shortage of good drinking water. Only mineral water comes to the refuge of the thirsty traveler. I had water from the hotel we lived, the hotel we dined, the Taj and the railway station and none of these tasted like they ought to have been. As a result, along with fond memories of the Taj, I had to leave Agra with a throat infection.

I’ll end this with a brilliant idea for budding entrepreneurs…Sell water around the Taj, you’ll make a roaring business.

Tour 2006

The Management of MNM Jain (Jail?) engineering college, all of a sudden, mooted the idea of allowing its students to go on an “educational tour”. But as always nothing comes without a catch in MNM. Along with the announcement came an avalanche of rules more or less like the annoying asterisk that leads to “conditions apply” in billboards.
With the final year students’ feeling that they have seen enough of south India and it was time that we head north, five days seemed to be insufficient. Also, the idea of separate tours for boys and girls with little geographical proximity between the sexes was badly received. After talks within and without the department, the duration of the tour was extended but no compromise whatsoever was made on the combined tour issue. Anyway the tour was a welcome break and it provided a tremendous scope for ODs, so we readily agreed. After a hassle for train tickets, the tour finally got confirmed. We also inaugurated the Association of Electrical and Electronics Engineers on the very day of our departure. I was sort of happy and felt somewhat like a corporate czar when I had to speak in a function in the morning and leaving for another city in the evening and visiting a lot of places over the next 10 days… Just kidding, the inauguration was a miniscule affairJ. So here we have for the first time in this blog, a travelogue (a traveblog rather).

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

The typical Indian fan

It is characterisitic of the Indian cricket fan to dream of the impossible when the team shows just a few hints of brilliance. I am no exception. I wrote this in sulekha on Jan 23 2004 for a blog contest when India was doing well against Australia in Australia. To read it again makes me look like a dumbass. This goes to prove that cricket is so unpredictable. Read on and have fun.

Indian cricket-What does the future hold?
The current series in Australia has raised all our hopes and many of us think that this is the best Indian team since Kapil’s devils. Each one of has an interesting picture of the Indian team of the future. The team that has everything it takes to win the world cup 2007 in the Americas. The team that will rattle the Aussies with its impeccable teamwork, the Proteas with its commitment on the field, the carribeans with its pace attack which would remind the carribeans of their golden days, the Pakistanis with its aggression, a team which would offer lessons to the best of sides to play better.Join me in the journey to the future.

Scene 1- Kingston, West Indies.,2007India’s devastating opener… Any guesses…the young wicketkeeper batsmen Parthiv Patel (he could become the Gilchrist of the Indian team, looking at the form he is in) is all set to face the first ball of the day. Shaun Pollock, the strike bowler of South Africa, is out of the game. He is suffering from acute diarrhoea, caused probably due to the nightmares of bowling the new ball to the devastator and to prevent his economy rate from shooting up like temperatures in Chennai when the Great Indian middle order takes over.

Scene 2- The Hotel where the Aussies are put up, a day prior to the world-cup finals,2007The Aussie captain announces at a press conference that the team management has requested Dr. Ashutosh Banerjee (when Indians are good in cricket, they can do well in other fields too), noted psychiatrist to counsel the Kangaroos who are trembling with the fear of being preyed upon by the Indian tiger.

Scene 3- Trinidad, West Indies India Vs Pakistan,2007India wins toss and elects to bat. The batting wizard, Virender Sehwag blasts the Pakistani bowling and at the end of 50 overs, he stands unbeaten at 205 and the Indian scores stands at 410/4. This innings sees 4 new records to be created, the fastest 50, the fastest 100, highest individual score and the highest aggregate by a team in an innings. In reply the Pakistanis were all out for 138 in 37 overs. The ball moved a lot during the Pakistani innings, partially due to the dew and to a major part due to the droplets of sweat in the pitch, the sweat of the Pakistanis when the pace of Pathan and Zaheer tormented them.

And finally

Scene 4- A middle-class residence in Southern Adelaide.2015An Australian student is typing something which seems to be an article on the future of Australian cricket . Here are the first few lines-“The current series in India has raised all our hopes and many of us think that this is the best Australian team since Ponting’s side.”This article was for the blogging contest organized by an Australian online community in view of a cultural extravaganza in an Adelaide University. He was inspired to write this because the Aussies were doing well against India in India. They scored their first ODI victory over Indians in India in 12 years.

Brand Gurukul

hi all..this is a short story based on my personal experience at NIIT.

Brand Gurukul
It was a busy Monday morning. It was business as usual for Radha whose weekday mornings were exceptionally busy. With three other souls (her two kids and her husband) suffering from the much talked about blues, she had to be quite a juggler to keep things in order.

Finally she made it. After seeing her loved ones off to work, she surprisingly made it to on time to “IT Gurukul”. Yes she was a counselor working with this leading IT education institute. A counselor in this context is not like the one you find at the psychiatrist’s or the family court. In the world of IT institutes, a counselor is someone who preys on the unsuspecting starry-eyed student who enters the institute to find a course of his choice. Counselors very nearly practice hypnosis. They can enroll even the toughest-to-convince kind of students to their expensive courses, no matter what the intention of the student is. The job of a counselor can be equated to that of a salesperson. But such terminology would glaringly reveal the monetary interests of the institutes like the Gurukul. Education at these places is as commoditized as the cosmetics business. It is ironic that an institute with such interests has a brand name which is so different in philosophy. A Gurukul is supposed to be a school where the teacher’s sole interest was to impart knowledge. Of course there is still one thing in common; the Gurudakshina is still there, the only respite being that students’ thumbs are not asked for.

As the day progressed, the number of visitors to the Gurukul began to increase, slowly but steadily. Radha has had an easy day so far. After finishing off with two girls who were already aware of their courses, thanks to the Gurukul’s enormous advertising budget, Radha wished that the rest of the day remained as peaceful. She motioned asking the next visitor to come in.

In came a bespectacled young man of say 18, dressed in a black tee. His Nike shoes and exotic perfume made Radha feel comfortable since most of her persuasive skills were made use of only when she had to explain the course fee structure. The Nike assured Radha that the boy won’t take much of her time. Given her experience, she could just breeze through with the session. She was confident that this young lad would walk out as a student of the Gurukul’s famous 2 years course.

She greeted the boy and made him have his seat. After the introduction, the counselor wielded the most common ice-breakers.

“So Pranav, which college do you go to?”

He mentioned the name of a prominent self-financing engineering college just outside the city. This made her all the more happy, for there are around 240 engineering colleges in the state and it was child’s play to bait the students with the slogan of Placement assurance.” Radha went on to the next question.

“Which is your discipline?”

“EEE. Electrical and electronics engineering”

“Oh! That’s wonderful. So I assume that you’ve come here to make a career in IT. Is that right?”

“No”

Radha was startled. She hadn’t received such a point blank response from anyone who had entered the campus. But she knew she had to act smart and went ahead with her questions coolly.

“That sounds interesting. In that case young man, may I know in what way do you think the Gurukul will be of help to you? What do you want to learn?”

“I just want some basic IT exposure, a programming language maybe. I am here to explore the short –term options. Nothing more than three months please.”

“Sure. But before that can we talk a little more?”

Pranav nodded.

“I would like to know what career options you have in mind.”

“Well, I want to be seen as an electrical engineer. I’ll work as an electrical engineer.”

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“Yeah. I might be working with the power plants or transmission and stuff”

“Ah! All that toil under the sun, the grease, grime, angry supervisors who are at least a century backward and at the end of it all, peanuts as salary. How happy do you think you will be with that kind of a profile?”

Pranav was visibly enraged. He raised his voice and answered sternly

“Ma’am, you are offending me. Every profession in this world commands its own respect. I’d be as happy as an IT professional with that kind of a profile.”


Radha sensed that things were going beyond control. She knew exactly what she had to do.

“Cool it Pranav. I didn’t mean offence. I have a few engineer friends who were unhappy. That question was more out of curiosity than anything else. That’s about it. Now let’s get back to business. Yes, there are opportunities in your field, but don’t you realize that they are far too limited. It is necessary to have backup options. Do you agree?”

“Yes”. His rage seemed to have subsided a little bit.

“And any company would look for an OS and a database along with the programming language”

Pranav gave a nod.

“Have you heard of .NET? Knowledge of the latest technology surely gives you an edge.”

He nodded again.

“I’ll give you exactly what you asked for. Short-term courses. Four months for C and C++, an extra 3 months if you want Java. Two months for Linux and Windows basics, and a solid 6 months for the .NET package.”

Pranav was looking at the catalogue handed to him

Radha went on. She knew that she was winning.

“My advice would be to take it all in one go. You’ve just joined college and you do have 2 years. The 2 years course gives you all that you wanted plus “placement assurance”.

Pranav was lost in deep thought.

“So what have you decided young man?”

There was a brief pause. Then Pranav asked in a clear voice “How do I register ma’am?”

Radha was gleaming with pride. It was another battle won. Dealing with such clients gave here immense satisfaction.

A week had passed.

It was another Monday morning. Radha opened the refrigerator sleepily and reached for the milk. Wait. There’s something missing. Where’s the light in the fridge? Is the fridge working? She checked with the other switches. It’s a power cut. That meant no coffee maker, no microwave, no water heater, no mixer and no a lot of other essential things. Oh no! Not on a Monday morning.

A perplexed Radha called the customer service number of the local electricity board. A half-asleep clerk attended the call.

“Good morning. TNEB”

“Good morning Sir. I am Radha calling from Indira Nagar, Adyar. There’s no power here.”

“I’m sorry madam. There is a major fault in the transmission line feeding Chennai. It’s a catastrophic blackout. I’m afraid it won’t be cleared very soon. We’ll have to wait”

Radha, frustrated and terrified at the consequences of what the clerk had just said, shouted into the receiver “What the hell are your engineers doing?”

The clerk replied calmly. “There has a resigning spree in recent times, madam. There were 10 resignations in the last 30 days. Our recruitment scene is not rosy either.”

“But, why”?

“Because, they were not happy. They were not happy with the toil under the sun, the grease, grime, angry superiors and at the end of it all peanuts as salary. All of them have joined software firms. They say that they are better off writing code for department stores.’

Radha hung up. Only shock, awe and confusion were to remain.


The End

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Bragey turns Biker Boy

Bragey turns Biker Boy
I got my new bike on the 1st of November. Its a Maroon Yamaha Libero LX.

This is a great bike. The styling is excellent and it offers a decent fuel efficiency. There's something about the Yamaha engine's roar. It surely stands out. In the future I wud like to be seen riding on a really macho bike (a Harley Davidson perhaps). For now my machismo is restricted to my Libero. So "Yama Yama drive" anyone?

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Great Biker Build-Off

Discovery Travel & Living is the only channel that entertains people in the otherwise boring Chennai Satellite scenario. Thanks to the conditional access system imposed on Chennai. This means that folks in Chennai have to pay for a set-top box and in addition they have to pay the subscription to the pay channels, unlike other places in India . Great Biker Build Off is the new show on Discovery Travel & Living channel where two teams compete and build huge & mean machines. Normally one of the teams builds its bikes after making all the measurements and by using high end computer aided design and manufacturing systems, while the other team does it the Fred Flinstone way. This is a great show for bike connoisseurs. What's dissappointing is that the show focusses more on the tank design, the painting routines and the sheet metal work, than on the engine, efficiency and rider comfort. The worst part is the winner is chosen by a group of people who havent had a ride on the bike and neither do they evaluate the engine performance. The voting is entirely based on looks. For example, in today's show, the winning bike had its rear wheel directly attached to the frame which meant that riding such a bike is reserved for the hardcore. What's more, the designer of the winning bike (Billy Lane) burnt his butt while riding it due to overheating. He had to remove the seat and throw it in water before resuming the ride. The bike had a run-in with law, when cops booked it on the highway. On the other hand, the other bike had a small shaft arrangement and hidden shocks to give it the smoothness that highway riding requires. The styling in this bike was not bad too. It had these smooth curves that gave it an exquisite finish. I believe that judging the bikes should be left to the experts, the technologists who are really passionate about biking, than by a drunken lot.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Here I am and this is me

Hey all,
I am Bragadees and I am currently pursuing my Bachelor's degree in electrical and electronics engineering in MNM Jain Engineering college, Chennai. I like listening to music (A R Rahman rocks!) and I get hooked on to computer games. I 'll try to write out my thoughts on things that matter to me and also some personal stuff in this blog. If u like something or you have something to say about me and my thoughts feel free to contact me at bragadees@gmail.com