Saturday, December 18, 2010
- I can define 'core competency' without falling down laughing
- I reply to 'What's Up' using a SWOT Analysis
- Requests for financial aids to parents are referred to as IPOs
- I ask my four-year old niece what the 'mission statement' in her life is
- I advise friends to lend some semblance of 'sustainability' to their relationships
- I talk to my girl about our future in terms of all the 'value' we can 'co-create'
- There are never less than six tabs on my browser
- 'Ctrl' is the most pressed button on my keyboard
- 'Reply to all' is my default action on reading a mail
- I make daily diary entries in MS Power Point
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The good old times were so bloody different. Or probably, it was the ignorance-induced-indifference of my age. Whatever be the reason, the sleeper coaches never used to bother me. They were taken for granted on a family trip. Travelling in air conditioned compartments used to be considered extravagance of the highest vulgarity.
22 hours in the sleeper coach of Purushottam Express brought back everything. It was a kaleidoscope of all the possible colors, dialects and cultures. The toilets stank. Males ogled blatantly at the plateaus of female anatomy. Discussions ranged from instantaneously solving political quagmires to making roadmap of the Indian cricket team to the WC. Hawkers sold spurious packaged drinking water with impunity. Some destitute-turned-junkie swept the entire coach with his shirt – that he would still wear after the exercise – for quick change and some glue to sniff. Ticket examiners made moolah at the expense of the employer. And everyone seemed to flash their ‘chai-neej’ phones squirting the latest Bollywood chartbusters that superimposed with one another making me beg the Lord to enlighten them about earplugs!
Today, I’m one friggin snob. Today I cringe in disgust. Today I travel AC.
Today, I travel with the crowd that throws huge words like ‘civic sense’ and ‘etiquette’ in a split second. The crowd that changes colors like a chameleon. The crowd that does “upar neeche” with the TTE without the slightest of hesitations. The crowd that uses the choicest expletives once it gets out of the coach. The crowd that thinks the world is it’s dustbin. The crowd that contributes more than it’s fair share to the smelly heap of garbage next door. The crowd that knows just one game: that of blame.
Will the buck ever stop? Will Musaddi Lal ever come out of the lazy reluctance bred by the ‘Chalta Hai’ attitude? Will we ever start using dustbins, however scarce they might be? Will we stop promoting beggary by offering them food instead of hard cash? Will the stranglehold on spurious water bottles ever tighten? Will the TTE’s wings ever be clipped? WILL PEOPLE EVER START USING EARPLUGS?
P.S. I’m totally convinced that the education system in UP sucks. This is Ishika (niece)’s take on English:
…C-A-T cat, D-O-G dog, E-O-G elephant…