Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Ticket Ticket...

Thanks to Mr. Pradeep singh kharola, the then managing director BMTC, who brought in a unique procedure to recruit 640 conductors in the year 2001. `the optical mark scanner (oms),' system was introduced to bring in transparency in the recruitment process and reduce the laborious work that the officials went through while screening the applications, listing the merit chart which were generally done manually. This new system was a totally computerized one and the BMTC had designed the project in such a way that the information provided by the applicants was fed into the computer through a scanner, which subsequently created a database about the list of candidates, their marks and roster.
But how transparent and anti-corrupt is the system?

The conductor of the BMTC (Bangalore Metropolitan Transport Corporation) is a result of struggled, heavily bribed, dreamed process.
How stupid, these aspirants are, to hanker for a post of conductor in Bangalore that offers a salary of just 10-12k pm serving probation period of 1 year that offers a pay of just 6k pm!
He is expected to bribe the officials in order to be made permanent and get a salary hike to make it reach a mark of 12k pm.

He, the conductor, has to bribe the depot ticket checker a total of around 3 thousand Indian rupees per month, in order not to get registered any deliberate foul play cases against him. They call it a membership. One has to first get enrolled and then become a member to be part of this internal bribe payment service. This is not the end of bribe, the sole soul of Indian Economy!
Our conductors are of course not fools. Why would they bribe to join, to be made permanent, just to roam in around the carbon flavored Bangalore city? Of course not, what they get in turn?

He receives a horde of used tickets every morning from the depot in-charge who collects them from the daily bus cleaners, needless to reveal the reason as to why these used tickets are collected.
But don’t hastily conclude your judgment of opinion, as there is still more to come.
You might have noticed in times you receive the ticket with a number equal to that of the change the conductor supposed to pay you back. This is because, when you show him the ticket to get back your money, He takes that ticket back and gives you the change. His taking back of your ticket go unnoticed. In this process of give and take, He earns your ticket fare.
This is still not the end of His earnings.
The bumper lottery is when the passenger traffic is more, this is where exactly, the depot bus allotter’s role comes in, who is generally a 12th pass (may be max a degree holder or may be not) and needless to say from the backward class of the caste system in Indian Community, who allots the route to our conductor in return of the hefty collection from each individual conductor ( 10K per month from each conductor ). By these kinda simple route allotment tactics the allotter earns nearly around 1-2 lakhs per month! Now think of times when you proudly thought, ‘its time for me to settle down, I earn 30 thousand per month’.
The route is generally of the types where laborers commute, they generally commute in a group of 8-15 at once, from one corner to another corner of the city. Considering a ticket fare of 15 , a total of 120 – 225 Rs is the fare. Our conductor offers them a discount of 30-50 Rs with ‘no ticket’ on His side of the offer. This is pure WIN-WIN strategy. MBA graduates learn this in class rooms; our conductors use this on a daily routine.
By all these He earns around 1000 – 2500 Rs per day without tax deductions (needless to say, this is extra to His salary of 12,000 Rs (1-3 Years Exp).

Thursday, December 2, 2010

If I were not a Techie...

At a house of 2400 Sft at a distance of 100 Meters from the sea shore, staring at the sleeping sun in the dusk from the balcony of the first floor of my duplex house, sipping the taste of coffee prepared by a girl of beauty with an eye on the skeleton of the book that would turn out from this write of mine, with my laptop and coffee cup exchanging their positions with my hands, I am writing my 'Let It be', a book that would burn my experiences and of course some genuine illusions of my interpreted perceptions into printed letters.
How a girl at my work station defeated all guards of my dreams. How she not only trickled through my dream of beauty but also dribbled the hurdles of my
thoughts on intelligence. I was an audience of third row, of The Play, the colors of green, orange, white played on her and called themselves as dress. The play was repetitively repetitive for 6 big months and none of the play viewers but I, liked it.. The way her brain drenched into the rain of methods for solving complex problems.
She was in a serious relationship with a guy since years;
A week of her absence made me realize that, I not only liked the art of her facial design and sensible muscle inside her skull but also had unknowingly fallen for her. A hazy expectation of, she would read this and I would be able to impress her at least to an extent of making her smile at me whenever our roads to pantry crossed, hit me and I killed my expectation.
And one fine day she was in a brand new dress, though I don’t remember its color, I felt as if someone slapped me hard on my ears and I could hear only the sound of kkuyiiiiiiii

Keeping the story of a girl at the start of the book is a marketing strategy.
But then, the dark won the battle against the dusk which I was a compatriot of. Now, I see a lamp at the tip of the sailing ship in that dark sea.
I am not licensed to hate this dark. I continue writing….

Saturday, September 18, 2010



I Smiled....

Registered, I, a seat, on the legendary last bench
Winning after the state’s toughest wrench
Along the smart guy and a brainy dame..
So friendship in no time it came..
Days rolled, months spun..
Needless to say with lots of fun…
Stared her in every tick of the time…
Carefully watching talks of her mime…
The hang outs, attendance in CCD, bunks
We were high scoring traveling monks…
Neither possessive nor malicious, I liked her though
Casual talks, no effort, so…

He said me in the middle of the night…
I proposed a girl in our college he said when…
I realized I was deeply in love with her then…
He was happy and I was quiet…
I knew, it was her, right away..
I stepped aside and gave him way

Wasn’t at ease though routine I showed…
With them again walked the road..
I was happy just to hear her eyes…
thoughts in me when they reached the peak…
I was full of words and I didn’t speak..

The days ending in college I realized when…
I started acting weird then…
For I cannot see her face then after…
I faked the pain with a big laughter…
Thinking, not control myself, I may…
Missed the fare-well, graduation day…

After One Year…

We decided to gather…
I was excited like an indulgent father…
It was great to see her again…
Rare smile, intelligent eyes, sensible brain..
I wondered if I had any pain
I trekked fast ahead of all…
She got herself stuck…
In this middle of the trek
She shouted my name for help, ensured i heard her call
I acted as if I didn’t hear, I don’t know why
May be to make me trek with the crew, I got her imply..
I didn’t see you around on the Graduation Day, she questioned…
A lame reason of ‘I couldn’t wake up’ I gave…

Recalled the college days on our way back on Mysore Road…
She used to love my careless attitude, she cracked the code…
And looked in my eyes; I gave her a smile…
Felt she proposed me for a while…

After one year…
- Las Vegas.. United States…

She confirmed visiting us, this spring break
To meet her Man, my best Pal, my room-mate again…
“ whats wrong, why aren’t you happy seeing me?”
Does she know what’s beneath my glee?
Will she reveal having traveled this long mile?
I gave her my smile…

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Saturday, May 29, 2010

MBA Interview

It was my 7th day of joining KPIT, I, as any other new joinie, was just starring at my monitor portraying that I was working. I received a call that revealed my MBA entrance exam results. I was more confused than happy. One for, how could they clear my exams ( I just gave a try, I was not able to find a job), two, I joined just 7 days back and what all procedures I need to follow in order to resign.
With this perplexed mind, I talked to my reporting cap for his approval of my leave.
I bused down to Hyderabad,
I, on 28-Nov-2007 morning, managed to reach the location mentioned in my interview call letter at 6:30 AM sharp, I was rushed to the bus waiting for me.
A gale of thoughts flavored with fear and nervous engulfed me. The co-candidates in the bus were all with a bundle of news papers and magazines, speaking their well prepared speeches to the parents/guardians who accompanied them. The paper that accompanied me was only my call letter. By then, I revealed myself, my chances of getting through. I was no more nervous (we are nervous when we are in fix of winning not when sure of losing).
This made me to take a small relaxed nap of 2 and half hours journey.

The campus: the fellow candidates were all in suits and business formals against my awkward colored shirt, sleeves folded with the outdated stubble. I learnt only then that we need to undergo a ‘speech’ round to enter into final face to face interview. Now I almost decided to leave the campus and enjoy the time in this paid holiday.
We were informed to assemble in our respective auditoriums. ( one auditorium for every 10 candidates).
I walked in the hall numbered 32 to see around 100 yearning people waiting for the candidates to perform so that they can rape them and display their enzymes of knowledge of their brain and three aged men with their trendy curved tummy laminated half by their shirt and remaining by their trousers. They might be the Judges I guessed.
I wasn’t aware of the 40 topics of speech displayed before this call for assemble. I recalled why my bus mates where rehearsing. Now I could see that list displayed in the auditorium. I was about to run away this time. But the fool inside me, made me stay back.
I quickly decided on a topic.

The Start : “Hi, I am Priya, I work for Deccan Herald as an editor” ( I dreamed people slapping their smile out at me when I start), she then gave a statistical survey analysis of Indian economy. The hall applauded their honor. Indian Agriculture, India’s Role in Global Market, Small Scale industries and many more were talked upon by the 7 candidates before me. Now, yes, Now it was my turn. My heart started beating in its highest ever speed, the announcer voiced ‘number 8 please’. By this time I was about to die by heart attack.
I somehow cheated my death and started slowly walking towards the dice. Fellow candidates and few young aged guys smiled their irony at me.
I adjusted the mike to my height. ‘I am Shiva, an Engineering student. I would like to speak on the topic ‘ Bollywood v/s Hollywood’ ( I saw majority of the listeners adjusted their seats to hear me, as the topic sounded odd and so as me), the very topic is wrong in my view. Bollywood and Hollywood are two different works of art and no art can be compared. Priya raised her hand to slap her editorial question at me ( she had questioned which most of the other 6 couldn’t answer) I smelled my downfall and insult. She asked me to give example and elaborate on the phrase that I quoted. Okie, let me take M F Hussian’s art piece, you may shower it with rose of praise and I may shower it with the thorns. This doesn’t mean that the art is good or bad. So as with any film. DDLJ was a massive hit, I was irritated and so as many. This doesn’t mean DDLJ is good or bad. Bolloywood is loved by Indians and Hollywood by some other. But I here would like to light on the differences these two film worlds have rather than comparing.
Bollywood believes in painting emotions in the form of songs, Hero and his lady meet for the first time, bang on, the romantic number edits in, He is sitting on a sea shore and recalls his college group, fun numbered guitar strings in and now the camera closes in to capture the quarter of an inch smile on left side of his lips, back to flash back, how their trip proved fatal for his lady love, a sad tone scripted about her memories tunes in making us feel the pain of the hero.
Hollywood doesn’t believe in these.
Priya raised her hand again, this time she said some Hollywood director ( I wasn’t aware of any Hollywood names) is also planning to have songs in his films so what you say about this, Shiva?, we even have Ram Gopal Verma here who doesn’t believe in songs, so lets not talk on exceptions here. The candidates started clapping, It wasn’t for my reply but for the hatred towards her (she has screwed them with her informative numbered statistics often interpreted as knowledge. It was like Jr. AB was admired in ‘Mein Prem ki Deewani hoon’ not because of his acting but for Hritik’s over acting.).
Hollywood horror flicks have some unusual looking satans with their teeth protruding, vomiting out some green semi solid saliva. People there find it scary and we don’t.
On the contrary, Bollywood satans hardly are seen in the films. A beautiful looking lady dressed in saree colored always white, walks down the room stairs and the background score tones in – Chun… Chun… Chun…. the doll smiles from the kid’s wardrobe.
The leading lady gets up for water, slowly opens her gorgeous eyes --- Dhadaaaar….. the television drop down with a bang. The Door opens with Krr Krr melody.
We find this scary.
This doesn’t mean White Ghosts are technically scary and Desi Devils aren’t.
These two are different works of Art and no art can be compared.
But friends, whatever the discussion may be, the mystery remains intact.
People feel proud to say, they watch only Hollywood flicks. I don’t know why.
‘Super Man’ treated Trendy and ‘Shaktiman’ as childishly foolish.
I have never seen a Hollywood movie (of course except TITANIC).

Thank you, ( I walked down the dice)

Monday, May 24, 2010

UN-SANCTIFYING RELIGION

Desire nothing, peace we attain then.
Do the duties think not of gain.
Who eats the fruit, all does only duty when
To desire not to desire is desire again


Be honest come what may.
No Dignity money brings in.
False is polite, to true, rude they say.
Lose decorum if you don’t win.

Invisible as soul, so is God.
See to Trust and hear to forget.
Though refuting, we submit the nod.
Fooling ourselves what we are aiming at.

All say one and all know this white.
Yet, temple and mosque fight.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

My Last Day in KPIT

23-Sep-2007: I stepped in KPIT Peenya Blore office gate, with a bemused mind as where to find the reception. I sat on the Sofa to see her starring at me every alternate 10 Minutes. I was offered coffee which I stylishly rejected. I waited as long as 2 Hrs and then repented saying NO to coffee (Style sometimes doesn’t work).

I was called for the interview which lasted for around 1 and half hour.

I with no emotions stepped out of office as this was not my first rejection in an interview (I was rejected in around 20 companies and 3 companies short listed me and then rejected seeing my academic score J).

Academic score of mine was designed for rejection.

Please have a look into my BE Academic Score table:

Total Number of Theory Exams : 44
Total Lab Exams : 14
Seminar :1
Project :1
Total Maximum Marks : 6675
Total Marks Obtained :3944
Percentage :59.086
Back Logs : 4 ( 3 cleared in next attempt, 1 cleared in third attempt)


The next day (24-Sep-2007) was the First T20 world cup finals ( India v/s Pakistan) I thoroughly enjoyed the match forgetting that I had attended an interview and was rejected ( I was used to it by then J ).

As usual after this hectic night show, I was still in bed at around 10 AM when I got a call that revealed the news of me being short listed for the second round of interview in KPIT.

The interview was scheduled at 12 PM the same day and I was at the Peenya office again at 11 30 AM (needless to say, without bath!)

I was interviewed for the second time and immediately HR round then the offer letter I received.

I was asked ‘Shiva, how early you can join’ I again stylishly said day-after-tomorrow (Thursday) to hear ‘great, see you on Thursday then at 9 30 AM’ (Sometimes Style doesn’t work second time as well).

A drop was added to the KPIT Ocean on 27-Sep-2007

(Engineering marks doesn’t matter. The marks are just as our names. They just convey nothing. )

27-Sep-2007: At sharp 9 30 AM I was sitting on a chair in a training hall that read ‘Basic SDPM training’. Many baffling words like SDPS, continuity, screen, PPPD, etc were thrown in the training which honestly and obviously didn’t enter my stupid mind. And I was stupid for the next day even (training was also on the second day).

I slowly started understanding the work, picked up, started enjoying my consultancy that offered and required both process knowledge, and soft skills to implement the process learnt.
Dhoom, then Quest 08 came in, then Annual day and so on…. This made me both comfortable and normal.

I got my first salary of my Life from KPIT.

I cannot forget this. (It’s said, we cannot forget our first company and first wife!) J

I received Complaints of being extra aggressive.
“How you tell is important than what you tell” – though we have a valid point but the way we express it, matters more. Seniors taught me this...

Seniors: Suresh A U, Shashidarshan V Pai, MGM, Sandeep Banthiya, Jawad Ali, Veena Muralidhara, Praveen Shivappa Shastry, Prashant Patil, Ramesh B, Jaya Prabhu A, Md. Afzal, Nameeta Nayak, Kowshik MS,

I thank them for their selfless suggestions.

I take these learning with me.

Each talk has given me the experience of Responsibility.
Each Day has given me the experience of experience.
Each heated discussion has given me the sense of knowledge.
Those heated arguments, night outs; screen meeting, releases, talks (fights rather) on SCR Impact Analysis, those elucidations in CCB Meeting.
What all and what not.

I simply cherish those moments.

It’s said,
“We stay amicable we forget, we quarrel we remember”.

Thanks for all those wrangles. J

Thanks to PEG to correct every mistake of mine and making me learn from them and grow up.

Special thanks to Dhoom team, Friends, post lunch- cigarette team, Weekend Cricket Team.
Reach me on shivdainak@gmail.com

Shiva....

Sunday, May 2, 2010

This Day That Age….

I walk…
to see the road where I played on
The last bench where I used to sit and Yawn…
The tree which was my cricket stump
School Bag where in Books I used to dump..

I see The Road now dressed in Tar…
The tree is Old and not the cricketers are…
I didn’t recognize it and the bag Did…
And the same bench with new yawning Kid…

I walk to see this similarity in the difference
The strange feel painted a Smile on my lip
New memory poured in each time coffee I sip..
Slowly in shining dusk I again walk
With memories sharing my Talk…

I see a granny starring at me in yearn
I walked to her for a curious Learn..
She smiled, softy slapped me and I was quite…
To hear her say ‘idiot you are still of same height’….
I remember the play I played in her Lawn…
I could only smile at the pace time has Gone..

I walk…
I Step ahead Turning this memory Page…
As if rest is young and I am in Old Age…
A Lady, Nomination of Crush whom I once Filed…
Is now walking the road with her Child… J
I hereby Withdraw my memory which is withdrawn
I could only smile at the pace, time has Gone..

I walk
To see my footprints On the sand of time…
to see the school where I hymned my Rhyme…
The College Lab punished where I was for Gum Chewing…
Where I didn’t know even what I wasn’t doing J…
The Room where I had to push my cloths aside to sleep…
The class where my Base I never used to Keep…
The Notice board which screamed our rusticated names…
For our play played in ‘Jumping the Hostel Gate’ Games…
wicked but sounds witty today, the age I walked On..
I could only smile at the pace, time has Gone..

I was silent and she didn't speak...

It was dusk I left Office when..
I realized missing my train then…
I hurried to station in my grimy dress …
I didn’t care as I had None to Impress…
chicks as always are taboo in Bogie I Sit…
tried to get one but this time I Quit…
so dirt of my dress bothered me Less..
Then a Lady ‘excuse me’ Toned in,I said Yes..

Making my debut in talking to a girl while I travel
Seeing her sitting before unwrapped I a Novel…
Not even ‘HI’ as if I was an Indian and She a Greek…
I was silent and she didn’t Speak…

saw her talkative eyes looked of course not at me…
looked when I turn and when she turn at her I see
As she adjusted her top,dress at her Knee…
Not at ease even I was, to her I didn’t Leak…
I was silent and she didn’t Speak…

Time ticked Nine, her Phone Vibrated Then…
at once she inquired The Train reached Blore When…
Bottle at window she kept while still she was on call
Strong Breeze rushed in train, making on ground it Fall…
Smiled her Eyes at me, as if the Bottle joked in this Geek
I was silent and she didn’t Speak…

Couldn’t see the ruthless Breeze troubling her…
I exchanged her seat; that is why Boys are For …
By this time my Hope reached its Peak…
I was silent and she didn’t Speak…

The Girl Friend Wedding….

This day it is, here he comes…
His Girl whom, a lot he talked..
She replied level but Away she walked…
Dear they were, amity they crossed…
Options she had, so she tossed..
This hurt him, he didn’t tell..
The pain is more, less it Spell..
Whose mistake? To No brain it can strike
As Both were correct and unlike…
This day it is, here he comes…
He was sure of being uneasily idle
dared to attend her bridal..
Remains A snap of memory Gone…
Smiling Walk on the time; Life goes On…
A simple story of a simple Dude…
Who was soft when time was Rude..

This day it is, here he doesn’t come…
Normal physic and romancing word…
Thus attracting every alternate Bird…
This made him try a challenging one…
Difficult it was and he Won..
So now the story here it start..
lovely couple, a sketch of Art..
She talked sense and he the reverse..
This made simple arguments worse…
Yet inside that, cemented a Bliss
As she loved him for this..
Then on Intimacy they stepped…
So naturally they wept…
To take it to official Level they gave a Try…
Informed her Brother that is Why…
Brother gave a nod; his think was No…
The gullible couple naive of this Flow..
Time ticked; few months spin…
Her engagement News rushed in…
He respired more and sometimes Less…
As She reluctantly firmed the new Dress…
This hurt him and he did tell..
The pain is there, More this time it Spell…
Whose mistake? Judge No brain Might
As both were wrong and right…
This day it is, he doesn’t come…
He dared and he didn’t attend…
Stepped aside, the relation doesn’t End…
Remains A snap of memory Gone…
Gamble the time; Life goes On…
Simple story of a Dude less Strong…
Make these lines stretch this long…

The lines are what I see…
Different their feel may be…
Love & Pain; hand in hand they Grow…
Fast they come and faster they go…
But one thing is certain and rest is lies..
The flower once glittered forever dies…

DEFECT


I wasn’t in favor of coming to this world of coward
Sour heart and mouth with words flowered
Development stage, I was still a kid…
Underestimated me, to rush and win the bid…
Ignorant of the simple concept on earth
That, any Casual approach will result in a birth…
Author is the Tag, but a parent you are..
Raping your work, gave birth to me, an error..

No sooner I was born, I gamed a deadly play
So meeting room entered they
I was almost killed in first round of review
When I escaped the killing eyes of the crew…
Reviewers’ army trapped some of us when…
Ashamed of being my parent realized you then…
Attacked again and called it a screen
This way you tried to be clean
Alive still I am, to reach your client
To prove I am still a defect giant

The team arrived to find my birth cause
Immortal I am, regardless of the laws
Always with you, RCA is just a disguise
Creating my own army to rise…
Will reborn to wage against you, my war
As long as casual you are…

Why this hatred and at me you turn wild
After all I am your child
It’s me, to you. Intelligence I offer…
Seeing me born so much you suffer…
What makes you hate me this strong?
I m just a defect, didn’t do anything wrong
You need in life both me and true
Don’t kill me I am a human like you