All through my career I have been a firm believer that feedback from juniors, peers and managers should come voluntarily and not from asking. I can extrapolate it to my life as well and can claim with enough honesty that I have never tom-tom'ed my abilities and achievements ever. Getting back to career, my belief was so strong that my year end self-appraisal used to be the briefest. It took a lot of goading from my managers to put down all the achievements (to the last small thing) in a categorical manner. I did not realise the potential of it back then but most of the managers do not keep a list of all their direct reports' doings. He/she will only add on to what the employee writes as his/her achievement and rate the employee. So the employee is the loser if he/she doesn't jot down all the points explicitly since in a good enterprise all the past performance documents are available for view by current managers and potential recruiters within the company. Ofcourse it took me time to understand this nuance.
It still takes an emotional toll on me to fill the gaps and holes in the self-appraisal with a lot of positive adjective mortar. At the end of the exercise I am left feeling like a total narcissist which I absolutely abhor. There is no need for me to expound on the fracas in my mind when I have to repeat everything at the actual "meeting" which would decide my rating.
Getting back to work after maternity leave has not been an easy transition for me. There are lots of issues to be resolved and its easy to get depressed. I resolved not to wallow in self pity (I dont know why but I seem to use this phrase a lot) and instead turn to positivities. I decided to find out what people I have worked with think about me. And the easiest way to do that was to ask for recommendations on LinkedIn, a site which I have come to appreciate now. A virtual war was won with the repressive inner self and a new confidence has started taking birth. There is a chance of it dying at birth if nobody responds but what the h*** I tried. Positive. La la la.
2.26.2009
2.25.2009
I'll do my crying in the rain
Glum mood
Inner storm
Buckets of water waiting near eyes
Love this song : A-ha's Crying in the rain
(I wish there was a utility to post songs instead of links)
Inner storm
Buckets of water waiting near eyes
Love this song : A-ha's Crying in the rain
(I wish there was a utility to post songs instead of links)
I'll never let u see the way my broken heart is hurting me
I've got my pride and I know how to hide all my sorrow and pain
I'll do my crying in the rain...
Ironically my mood has nothing to do with my heart.
2.20.2009
Dear Mr.Obama
On becoming the President of the USA, I congratulate you for giving the world visually tolerable images of the so called "world's most powerful man" which was hitherto a very depressing affair given the fact that the person who occupies your esteemed office takes up half the bandwidth of world television broadcast.
You have lent a mighty voice not only to the generally intelligent folks of the United States but also to some shy denizens of our great country India, in particular to some narcissistic individuals. You may not be aware of the various appellations in our great land but one would definitely interest you – Obamma. We, in our locality (details of which I don’t mention for fear of brickbats) are pleased to inform you that we have a lane bearing your name or nearly so. Last week we named one of the by-lanes in our locality as “Obamma Lane”. The bearer of the name “Obamma” was definitely shy about her name being painted in bold, font 400 and bright blue on the signboard since it is not one of the most fanciful names we have in modern India to the extent that one might hear a snicker or two. This was until you came along. You have increased the significance of her name . I don’t subscribe to the school of thought which creates biases on the basis of a name because I do believe “What’s in a name?” but it gives me great joy to gratify you by informing you that your name itself is becoming a kind of status symbol.
Yours’ Sincerely,
A Wellwisher
You have lent a mighty voice not only to the generally intelligent folks of the United States but also to some shy denizens of our great country India, in particular to some narcissistic individuals. You may not be aware of the various appellations in our great land but one would definitely interest you – Obamma. We, in our locality (details of which I don’t mention for fear of brickbats) are pleased to inform you that we have a lane bearing your name or nearly so. Last week we named one of the by-lanes in our locality as “Obamma Lane”. The bearer of the name “Obamma” was definitely shy about her name being painted in bold, font 400 and bright blue on the signboard since it is not one of the most fanciful names we have in modern India to the extent that one might hear a snicker or two. This was until you came along. You have increased the significance of her name . I don’t subscribe to the school of thought which creates biases on the basis of a name because I do believe “What’s in a name?” but it gives me great joy to gratify you by informing you that your name itself is becoming a kind of status symbol.
Yours’ Sincerely,
A Wellwisher
Happiness comes from Banana
There is many a thing that the poo-poo-pee-pee kid can teach an adult. One of the lessons I learnt yesterday was a reminder to me of all the simple things in life one forgets as one trudges along grumbling about everyday life.
Yesterday dotzy was subjected to the shock treatment of gunshot. I categorically deny us having anything to do with terrorists except when its meal time and I have to terrorise my dotzy with a bowl and spoon until she finishes every last drop. We decided that it was time to get dotzy a pair of earrings and set out to accomplish this yesterday morning. One small hitch though - she did not have holes in her ears yet. Nowadays the horrifying process of punching a hole through one's cartilage has been given a painless updation in the form of a gun. The "gun" is an ingenious contraption which punches a hole, inserts a stud from the front of the ear and clamps the stud from behind the ear all in a matter of one sec and one well-aimed shot. Well, that is if your kid is sitting still, not crying and more importantly not being jerky. As can be expected out of a wee 7 month old, a choked howl-cry started as soon as the first shot was felt and lasted for a full 3 minutes after the second shot ended. As soon as the studs were in place I whisked her outside onto the pavement, in order to get the villain hole-puncher out of her line of sight. But that dint deter her one bit and she continued to howl and look at me balefully and make my soul shrink with guilt. At that moment an angel swooped down on us in the form of a banana seller. All she had to do was cluck at dotzy and offer her a nice yellow banana. Dotzy (she seems to be well mannered beyond her age or as suspicious as a spy already) after a lot of encouragement from me accepted the gift through her tears. The very next instant the pain, the shock, the tears were all abandoned in the joyful vigorous swinging of the banana in her hand. The sun was back and shining on her sweet face and there were no words with which I could thank the banana lady. I would have walked away with overwhelming gratitude had T not nudged me to tell me that I could thank her better by buying bananas from her.
Happiness comes from a banana...
Yesterday dotzy was subjected to the shock treatment of gunshot. I categorically deny us having anything to do with terrorists except when its meal time and I have to terrorise my dotzy with a bowl and spoon until she finishes every last drop. We decided that it was time to get dotzy a pair of earrings and set out to accomplish this yesterday morning. One small hitch though - she did not have holes in her ears yet. Nowadays the horrifying process of punching a hole through one's cartilage has been given a painless updation in the form of a gun. The "gun" is an ingenious contraption which punches a hole, inserts a stud from the front of the ear and clamps the stud from behind the ear all in a matter of one sec and one well-aimed shot. Well, that is if your kid is sitting still, not crying and more importantly not being jerky. As can be expected out of a wee 7 month old, a choked howl-cry started as soon as the first shot was felt and lasted for a full 3 minutes after the second shot ended. As soon as the studs were in place I whisked her outside onto the pavement, in order to get the villain hole-puncher out of her line of sight. But that dint deter her one bit and she continued to howl and look at me balefully and make my soul shrink with guilt. At that moment an angel swooped down on us in the form of a banana seller. All she had to do was cluck at dotzy and offer her a nice yellow banana. Dotzy (she seems to be well mannered beyond her age or as suspicious as a spy already) after a lot of encouragement from me accepted the gift through her tears. The very next instant the pain, the shock, the tears were all abandoned in the joyful vigorous swinging of the banana in her hand. The sun was back and shining on her sweet face and there were no words with which I could thank the banana lady. I would have walked away with overwhelming gratitude had T not nudged me to tell me that I could thank her better by buying bananas from her.
Happiness comes from a banana...
2.14.2009
Gandhigiri and the cellphone
As the competition hots up I decided to blog about it to gain mileage among my sympathisers. T and me are into Gandhigiri these . So dotzy's attempts tp vandalise the cellphone is met with a smile and the offer of another. Want to know why? Here's my side of the story...
Background :
2007 - It was time for me to replace my aging Nokia. I had been waiting for more than a year for the perfect phone. Then came the Abhishek Bachchan Motorokr ad. I feel like a moron now but full credit to the advertisers for the campaign. It was uber cool. A groovy and humorous story line was all I needed to make up my mind (I dont want this post to be a confessional about how big a a fan of AB Baby I am) and I was hooked. I started dreaming of Rokr being the most appropriate successor to the sturdy (trust me, I have stress tested it to the max) 3310. I went ahead and bought the phone via a friend who works at Motorola (I am a sucker for discounts) and discovered with shock that the wireless stereo headset (the main reason for buying the phone, yeah yeah not AB Baby) was out of stock. I was thus stuck with a phone without its coolest feature. That is not the worst part though as I later bought one and found it to be inconvenient to use. I feel technologically challenged with the Rokr because I do not understand Linux which is the OS on that phone. I have never been able to install any application on it simply because I have not understood how. Looking through innumerable number of Motorokr forums is not helping my brain. I also discovered with time that the screen scratches easily in the hands of a not so delicate user like me. I am now at the end of the disillusionment tether. I want to buy a new phone and am waiting for the perfect successor!
Cut to 2009 :
My dotzy has made drumming her new hobby. She drums on and with anything. Give her a soft toy, a rubber book, her own hand or a cellphone! She goes on her "Atha atha atha" ("hit hit hit" in baby lingo") routine relentlessly and with more vigour with each hit. She has to just see a cellphone lying aroung and she will swiftly glide to it and grab it. Last week I realised that this could be a God-sent to get rid of my phone. How many hits on the floor does it take for a cellphone to stop working? I dont know, am still counting at 220. But to my dismay I found another competitor in the endeavour. T! He also has decided that he wants a new phone and is keen to expose dotzy to variety! So in an evil usage of Gandhigiri we voluntarily submit our phones to the rowdyism of dotzy.
If she hits one cell we calmly and gleefully show the other.
Will keep you posted about who wins.
Happy Valentine's Day T ;)
( I shall cherish these times when my dotzy couldnt tell anyone the truth)
Background :
2007 - It was time for me to replace my aging Nokia. I had been waiting for more than a year for the perfect phone. Then came the Abhishek Bachchan Motorokr ad. I feel like a moron now but full credit to the advertisers for the campaign. It was uber cool. A groovy and humorous story line was all I needed to make up my mind (I dont want this post to be a confessional about how big a a fan of AB Baby I am) and I was hooked. I started dreaming of Rokr being the most appropriate successor to the sturdy (trust me, I have stress tested it to the max) 3310. I went ahead and bought the phone via a friend who works at Motorola (I am a sucker for discounts) and discovered with shock that the wireless stereo headset (the main reason for buying the phone, yeah yeah not AB Baby) was out of stock. I was thus stuck with a phone without its coolest feature. That is not the worst part though as I later bought one and found it to be inconvenient to use. I feel technologically challenged with the Rokr because I do not understand Linux which is the OS on that phone. I have never been able to install any application on it simply because I have not understood how. Looking through innumerable number of Motorokr forums is not helping my brain. I also discovered with time that the screen scratches easily in the hands of a not so delicate user like me. I am now at the end of the disillusionment tether. I want to buy a new phone and am waiting for the perfect successor!
Cut to 2009 :
My dotzy has made drumming her new hobby. She drums on and with anything. Give her a soft toy, a rubber book, her own hand or a cellphone! She goes on her "Atha atha atha" ("hit hit hit" in baby lingo") routine relentlessly and with more vigour with each hit. She has to just see a cellphone lying aroung and she will swiftly glide to it and grab it. Last week I realised that this could be a God-sent to get rid of my phone. How many hits on the floor does it take for a cellphone to stop working? I dont know, am still counting at 220. But to my dismay I found another competitor in the endeavour. T! He also has decided that he wants a new phone and is keen to expose dotzy to variety! So in an evil usage of Gandhigiri we voluntarily submit our phones to the rowdyism of dotzy.
If she hits one cell we calmly and gleefully show the other.
Will keep you posted about who wins.
Happy Valentine's Day T ;)
( I shall cherish these times when my dotzy couldnt tell anyone the truth)
2.12.2009
A day for love - coloured with Pink this time
So Pink is the flavour of the season for this valentine's day. Especially if you are sending a gift to the Sri Ram Sene and the gift happens to be one's underpants.
You can find all the details at the Pink Chaddi Campaign Blog
Do it for the fun of it. Its the best way to dispose off all those overused innerwear you might have hoarded!
An update on the previous post [LIKELY JUNK]
After I wrote this post complaining about my mail server in a public forum, the mail server has mended its ways and now does not attach [LIKELY JUNK] to T's mails. If anyone else (who has my office id, which ofcourse I will not give out here) is interested in testing the temperment of the mail server, please send me a mail to my office id.
Thanking You,
Yours Sincerely,
I-Believe-All-Problems-Can-Be-Resolved-by-Communication-And-Proper-Escalation
Thanking You,
Yours Sincerely,
I-Believe-All-Problems-Can-Be-Resolved-by-Communication-And-Proper-Escalation
"stop@nothing" says A-star
Seriously? Is that a punch line for a car? Stop at nothing? Did the punch-line-thinking people realise they are in a serious business called advertising? Or were they in a real hurry because they forgot the deadline to deliver the line? A-star, the new offering in the Maruti Suzuki stable has an advertising punch line which says "Stop at Nothing". Hmm...how about crossing pedestrians? Or the RED TRAFFIC LIGHT? Or for a cow which decided to cross the main road at Brahma's speed? Does A-star come with brakes which get spoilt from overuse? I tell you, its a dangerous line that. Especially for most people who drive in Bangalore who dont stop for anything anyway. Its a bad social message being sent out. I think the censor board should take objection to the fact that the A-star ad promotes violence. Whats that you say? Nobody takes ads seriously? Well there are people like me who take some at face value. Thats the story behind my Motorokr, more of which will be in my next post. I think the Maruti folks should take a leaf out of the book of Bajaj Advertising. Did you check out the latest XCD Ad? They have always had impressive commercials starting from their Hamara Bajaj pitch. If its only cars we talk about then Tata Motors has put up good commercials especially the zany Indica ones. Advertising shouldnt be about star value (I dont think Farhan Akhtar even does justice to the "star" value that the advertisers of A-star might have been obliquely referring to) but more about the sellability. Companies should stop assuming that a celebrity can sell products with a song and dance or a smug expression. There needs to be a storyline, a build up behind the ads. Motorola (my sob story aside) did not just depend on Abhishek Bachchan to sell their phones but made him part of their storyline. Thats the kind of interesting advertising people will always remember thus enhancing brand recall. Unless ofcourse one doesnt stop at anything ;)
2.09.2009
[LIKELY JUNK]
That's what my mails are awarded with these days. No matter if they are from my best friend or from a viagra seller. The junk sorter at my work place is taking no chances. At a time when my self-esteem feels very much like the subject attached to my mails, it comes as no surprise to me that the mailbox is dolloping hints. A few people I reply to have registered their complaint at their mails being called junk by the inanimate mail server and have threatened to sever the communication thread if their respect is not restored. I dont really have the perseverance to change the mail subject just for their gratification. Unfortunately.
T has now reconciled to the fact that my mail server shouts atop the roof that he is adding to the already large amount of useless and unwanted bytes flowing through it. Thankfully it does not deter him to ignore me when am at office.
His latest mail epitomised it as : [LIKELY JUNK]chill
Hugs!
2.06.2009
Thutty is not a passing phase
I turned 30 and there is nothing in my reach to turn it back. Oh God, can I please get another chance to start from my school days? I now know that I should have shown immaturity as a kid and gradually increased the maturity hormones. I can see that I was totally wrong in being an adult at school. (Slap on forehead of self)
Ego
I turned 30 recently and announced to the whole world that now I have the fundamental right to not be accountable for anything. Pushing aside the snide remark from my mother that I got this right when I turned 18, I plunged into giving details about this new found right. I dont have to call home every once in a while if I dont want to. I dont have to consider anybody's opinion for doing what I would like to do. I dont have to care what people around me would think if I went jogging in shorts. I dont have to start driving. I dont have to work on work that I dont want to work for. I dont have to care if my parents are going to read my blog and hence I need to self-censor my posts. Am sure you get the drift of where I am going with the new found liberty loaded with a lot of "idonthaveto".
Alter Ego
I turned 30 recently and realised that my responsibilities have only increased if anything. I am more accountable than I have been my entire life. My dotzy looks up to me craning her neck even. I realised its high time I got some ideals and principles incorporated into my daily life fabric which has gotten so loose woven that anything and everything will fall through it without being seived. I have to shake up and wake up before I sleep through for the next ten years which would again provocate such a sad post of pretense.
Lately my only worry has been about how to position myself. No points for getting ideas about my obligingly spread base area or any other wicked thing. I have turned 30 without having any inkling about selling my ideas or skills which is a very important catalyst to ambition. And ambition is my claim to glory in my ego-"ed" dream world. Instead I have a skill to continuosly blabber my way through any time frame without alleviating any doubt the people I am meeting might have in their minds as to the purpose of the talk. I almost have the gift of the gab. Whether it is about convincing my mother-in-law to start dotzy on a lot of solids or about convincing my boss about my career intentions I can only better myself at being haphazard. I seem to have a strong power of "No" (unlike most people who have to be taught that via motivational books) and an almost scared acknowledgement of "Yes". I should have been a movie critic with the skills I have that I just discovered with this post. I think its high time I stopped whizzing past the self help books in the book store, with a look of indignation on my face for the people actually browsing through those.
What am I talking about in this post? See, I told you so.
Turning 30 means I should opine more!
Ego
I turned 30 recently and announced to the whole world that now I have the fundamental right to not be accountable for anything. Pushing aside the snide remark from my mother that I got this right when I turned 18, I plunged into giving details about this new found right. I dont have to call home every once in a while if I dont want to. I dont have to consider anybody's opinion for doing what I would like to do. I dont have to care what people around me would think if I went jogging in shorts. I dont have to start driving. I dont have to work on work that I dont want to work for. I dont have to care if my parents are going to read my blog and hence I need to self-censor my posts. Am sure you get the drift of where I am going with the new found liberty loaded with a lot of "idonthaveto".
Alter Ego
I turned 30 recently and realised that my responsibilities have only increased if anything. I am more accountable than I have been my entire life. My dotzy looks up to me craning her neck even. I realised its high time I got some ideals and principles incorporated into my daily life fabric which has gotten so loose woven that anything and everything will fall through it without being seived. I have to shake up and wake up before I sleep through for the next ten years which would again provocate such a sad post of pretense.
Lately my only worry has been about how to position myself. No points for getting ideas about my obligingly spread base area or any other wicked thing. I have turned 30 without having any inkling about selling my ideas or skills which is a very important catalyst to ambition. And ambition is my claim to glory in my ego-"ed" dream world. Instead I have a skill to continuosly blabber my way through any time frame without alleviating any doubt the people I am meeting might have in their minds as to the purpose of the talk. I almost have the gift of the gab. Whether it is about convincing my mother-in-law to start dotzy on a lot of solids or about convincing my boss about my career intentions I can only better myself at being haphazard. I seem to have a strong power of "No" (unlike most people who have to be taught that via motivational books) and an almost scared acknowledgement of "Yes". I should have been a movie critic with the skills I have that I just discovered with this post. I think its high time I stopped whizzing past the self help books in the book store, with a look of indignation on my face for the people actually browsing through those.
What am I talking about in this post? See, I told you so.
Turning 30 means I should opine more!
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