Firefox was getting jittery. Nothing fiery or foxy. Rather like a LazyBuffalow. Anyways, checked out the morning and the emails. Just for a change, read one of the many competition mails which land up in the inbox everyday. (Perhaps I will detail these 'competitions' some other day). The mail was inviting entries for Treatise at IIM Lucknow 2008. And for a massively shocking change, found it entertaining.
'So if you think you can shape India’s future, then all you need to do is to register at our website before 17th December, 2007 and submit your initial plan before 19th December, 2007.'
It had a kind of 'to change the world buy our toothpaste' kind of feel to it. If it was intentional, it was masterful. If unintentional, then I would love to read every mail of these guys :D
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Yukon Ho! - I
(Let me be clear at the outset that I have not visited Yukon and don't plan to. It's just too cold and I have not intentions of bearing a chill, sneezing my heart out and running around protecting my existence from wild animals. But this is a Calvinistic Fantasy and, absent any alliterative Canadian inspirations, makes for a great title....)
It was pitch dark and the she was serving some food. I had lost all sense of day and night. It was always day outside. A day of clouds beneath my feet. Some of them pretty literally. The Brussels sky was covered with clouds, white sheets. The giant wings of the A380 partly shut of the view from the glass-covered window.
It felt great when I finally landed, after 20 hours, 4 meals and an endless day travelling with an entire Punjabi village. The Pearson International airport was gigantic. Beyond my dreams. We came down the elevators, walking across Shilpa Shetty, Sameera Reddy, Shekhar Kapoor, Satish Kaushik, Tanuja Chandra and god knows who else. It felt good that I never ever saw them in Mumbai and no one knows them in Canada. So there were no impromptu stampedes or special arrangements. I tried the wireless but it was paid, same as in Brussels. After spending a few nostalgic moments remembering socialist India with free wi-fi; our feet and a few directions from a helpful counter-lady took us to the ground floor towards the groundways transit. A free transit had been arranged towards McMaster University.
We were going to stay in Hamilton, often called the 'Steel City' or the 'armpit of Canada' if you want to be particularly uncharitable. The groundways transit clerk mispronounced our names . It was the first time but not, unfortunately, not the last. The driver of the car was pretty friendly, he tried some jokes. That was the first time I realized the meaning of culture. All attempts at conversation were doomed to an eerie I-don't-understand-what-the-hell-are-you-saying hell. He did not get our accent and we did not get his jokes. At the end however, he got one message across, there are no good strip clubs in Hamilton.
As we got around from Toronto to Hamilton, one thing started becoming clear. The Canadians might lack some people and some warm climate but they had land to throw away. Right through the window of your car. As we drove past vast tracks of trees, parking lots, wide two storey behemoths of Supply Chain corporations, big discount stores and still bigger parking lots, this fact was continuously rubbed in.
As we entered Hamilton, I felt happy that most Canadians have not visited Mumbai. If this was called the armpit, Mumbai would be designated by an more anatomically colourful term. The houses were dreamlike. They were individual and sloping roof, indicating it rained here. The cottages with parking lots, porches, clean roads and little chimneys looked right out of a movie. I was difficult to shake off the feeling that I am in a real country. As we arrived, the rains did too. Not the torrential Mumbai rains. It was similar to the light Lucknowi showers. The landlady was not home and we waited on the porch. So that was my arrival in Canada; Lucknowi showers, maple trees, clean roads, careful drivers, movie studio like student houses and two wet bags on the front porch.
It was pitch dark and the she was serving some food. I had lost all sense of day and night. It was always day outside. A day of clouds beneath my feet. Some of them pretty literally. The Brussels sky was covered with clouds, white sheets. The giant wings of the A380 partly shut of the view from the glass-covered window.
It felt great when I finally landed, after 20 hours, 4 meals and an endless day travelling with an entire Punjabi village. The Pearson International airport was gigantic. Beyond my dreams. We came down the elevators, walking across Shilpa Shetty, Sameera Reddy, Shekhar Kapoor, Satish Kaushik, Tanuja Chandra and god knows who else. It felt good that I never ever saw them in Mumbai and no one knows them in Canada. So there were no impromptu stampedes or special arrangements. I tried the wireless but it was paid, same as in Brussels. After spending a few nostalgic moments remembering socialist India with free wi-fi; our feet and a few directions from a helpful counter-lady took us to the ground floor towards the groundways transit. A free transit had been arranged towards McMaster University.
We were going to stay in Hamilton, often called the 'Steel City' or the 'armpit of Canada' if you want to be particularly uncharitable. The groundways transit clerk mispronounced our names . It was the first time but not, unfortunately, not the last. The driver of the car was pretty friendly, he tried some jokes. That was the first time I realized the meaning of culture. All attempts at conversation were doomed to an eerie I-don't-understand-what-the-hell-are-you-saying hell. He did not get our accent and we did not get his jokes. At the end however, he got one message across, there are no good strip clubs in Hamilton.
As we got around from Toronto to Hamilton, one thing started becoming clear. The Canadians might lack some people and some warm climate but they had land to throw away. Right through the window of your car. As we drove past vast tracks of trees, parking lots, wide two storey behemoths of Supply Chain corporations, big discount stores and still bigger parking lots, this fact was continuously rubbed in.
As we entered Hamilton, I felt happy that most Canadians have not visited Mumbai. If this was called the armpit, Mumbai would be designated by an more anatomically colourful term. The houses were dreamlike. They were individual and sloping roof, indicating it rained here. The cottages with parking lots, porches, clean roads and little chimneys looked right out of a movie. I was difficult to shake off the feeling that I am in a real country. As we arrived, the rains did too. Not the torrential Mumbai rains. It was similar to the light Lucknowi showers. The landlady was not home and we waited on the porch. So that was my arrival in Canada; Lucknowi showers, maple trees, clean roads, careful drivers, movie studio like student houses and two wet bags on the front porch.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Plagiarizing Professors and Pirating Populations - I
(Disclaimer: The incidents described below are liberal mix of fiction with personal experience. Its a kind of based on a true story where the gaps in the story have been filled in with liberal dramatizations. Any coincidences with reality are, of course, purely intentional.)
Scene 1: May 2, 1999
S****** F****** was typing fast late in the light. The New Salem lights were dim outside. He had to submit his assignment in a few minutes and he had not even looked at the figures. Even if he had looked, he had precious little time to figure out anything.
The case-analysis was of the legendary 'Netscape's IPO'. Unlike the usual Harvard cases that start with a tensed executive staring philosophically out of the window, this one came straight to the point. Netscape wanted to get an IPO out. They had never made any money. All other sources of finance were dry. They decided to approach the stock markets. And dotcom gold diggers on wall street wanted the stock more badly than ever......
So, the question was what should be the price of a Netscape share. It primarily highlighted the difficulties faced in valuing a company where you know next to nothing about the company or the industry's future.
'God, thank you for creating excel with the drag and copy feature for the formulae', he thought as he put in his assignment for the day. For a 10 minute job, the excel could not have been better. However, it lacked any fundamental correlations with reality. A sane mind, with one reading of the case, could do no more than keeping hitting the delete button in frustration - hopelessly trying to eliminate all memory of the horrible effort.
Perhaps the professor will not actually verify the figures. Perhaps no one will look at the excel sheet. After all, you could have justified everything......
Scene 2: Between May 2, 1999 and June 4, 2007
Professor J****** W***** was sitting in his office gazing philosophically at the boston snow outside, imagining himself as the hero of a Harvard case study. An imperceptible sigh escaped his breath as he found himself battered with the meetings of the day. The case at the edge of the table caught his glance.
'Why did Netscape have to come out with that IPO. More so, why did they actually think someone could value it. Perhaps they wanted to enhance your number juggling skills......... does it really matter? Enough people can take care of these trifles without me wasting time over it.'
In another room, the screen of the TA jingled with a 'you have got mail' sign. The TA had actually recieved two mails. The first one confirming his evening out and the second one from the professor.
'What does that slave-driver want now? Another one of those stupid assignments with reams of excels and arbitrary powerpoints.'
As he gave a long look to the six pages of IPO pricing difficulties, it dawned on him that he would have to cancel that date. But perhaps there was some hope. The irony was not lost on him as he plugged on his netscape to search 'previous opinions' on the case. And he hit paydirt......... F*******.xls . A whole excel, with the the numbers crunched and digested. It looked a bit rough on the edges but any checking would only waste time.
Virtually anything under the sun could be written and argued for. Who's gonna read it anyway!
CTRL C and CTRL V with a little know-how of IPO underpricing, make for a good 4 slide ppt and a saved date.
Scene 3: August 3, 2007
'Triskaidekaphobia!' - exclaimed the t-shirt in and around Hostel 13 at II* L******. The grounds outside smelled of the fresh Lucknowi showers. A host of bugs pursued the incandescent lamps everywhere, mistaking them for the moon.
In one room of that hostel, a group of 5 students was pondering over the future of the cement industry. At least trying to, in the sultry dampness of a rainy monsoon.
Suddenly, another one torpedoed into the sage meeting, oblivious to all serenity. He was obviously excited.
I got a google. It's done by a professor. Some J*** W****. I don't think we need to check it.
The relief in the voice was palpable. It amounted to saving one more hour. They really needed that, if not for themselves, then for the cement industry. But all of them were not equally ethically challenged.
Abey excel toh bana le! (At least make the excel!)
The chiding remark ricocheted of the room walls. An eerie silence prevailed. Ethical uncertainity and the cement industry, the devil and the black sea - the choices were not very pleasing.
I have read the case. I have practically followed netscape from then on to its present avatar as FF. You can make an argument for any price. Change the growth rates here, the discount rates there and you can have a figure from 15-50. It's not worth spending any time over...
But the argument was not pervasive.
Then it's even better! The excel will not take more than 10 minutes.
The new entrant was tired, defeated. He retreated. He might as well as confirm the numbers with the case. He picked up the case and started checking the excel sheet. And then, he saw what S******* F****** thought no one will.
WTF!!
The story would have ended here, but it did not.
Scene 4: August 4, 2007
'WTF!!'
Expletives are not the most common words one mouths in class. But today was a groundbreaking day. A day which shook beliefs and reaffirmed the worst fears. A day which answered, 'Yes, the sky is breaking down and its gonna fall on you' and 'Yes, everyone is out to get you'.
It had all started with yesterday's announcement in class.
He's gone mad!
People will not read even one!
How will he complete it in 75 minutes ?
These were some of the sentences being bandied around the previous day. The voices were as incredulous as they were distressed. Some bright soul of a professor, going around by the name of A*** G***, had decided to give Harvard a run for its money.
Harvard pioneered the case study method. We will now teach them how to F*** Forward with case discussions.
These were his thoughts. OR perhaps he had an essential faith in their collective incompetency, which prompted the projection that there will be no discussion. There was no other reason why a sane individual would assume that 4 cases can be analyzed and discussed in a 75 minute class. The cases were small, but pretty complex in themselves, as in no one could precisely pinpoint even the issues involved. How do you predict for example, what valuation was correct for Netscape?
The group from Hostel 13 were sitting in the class with the new, modified, corrected and embellished solution. All thoughts concentrated on Netscape now. It was not perfect but was as near perfect as the group could take it.
Group * , can you make the presentation
The feeling of relief was as deep as it was imperceptible on all faces except of Group *. They had been called on to deliver judgment.
Dot com companies.. Business Model... IPO pricing.. blah.. blah
The torpodoing retreater of hostel 13 was sitting in this class. A sudden smile passed his lips as he saw the xls. He could not believe it. Yes, it was modified. It was clean of all mistakes. But the assumptions. They were unmistakably close. Others had done the same thing he had tried to attempt in his hostel, he mused. Hail Google! The source of one. The source of all. A patina of relief masked his face as Group * ended and A*** G*** started speaking.
Hopefully, a sane solution. Let's hope we get to learn here.
The mouse pointer moved towards the file. He could hear the click when it was selected and opened. The bits moved from the cpu to the projector at approximately the speed of light. From there to 70 pairs of eyes, they moved at the speed of light. The ones and the zeros arranged themselves to form a comprehensible display of numbers on screen. The optic nerve raced through with the numbers to the frontal cortex. The temporal lobe accessed the decidedly short term memory. As the excel sheet opened, his face lost all colour.
WTF!!
That was not the only or even the first expletive brought in by the excel sheet. This xls, the one the professor had brought to class was not even modified or corrected. It took time to sink in.
Ye bhi! (Him too !)
Hurried glances were exchanged throughout the class. Everyone knew what was wrong. They had spent the whole day trying to correct it!
And then the class attacked. If S***** F****** would have known 70 pairs of eyes were gonna go into a deepdive analysis of his excel, perhaps he would have been careful with the drag and drop. Or perhaps, J*** W****'s TA would have missed his date if he had witnessed the slaughter. The prof had not expected anyone to actually read the case. The tension was reflected in the beads of sweat on his face. The humiliation was evident as the case was dismissed hurriedly to be looked on at later (meaning never). He wondered, perhaps like all criminals do, when caught red-handed.
How do they know!
As the class exchanged smiles, they understood the unspoken fact. Everyone knew. Everyone read. Everyone googled.
(Some links which might be of interest:
http://www.wfu.edu/~palmitar/Law&Valuation/Papers/1999/FREITAS.XLS
http://www.wfu.edu/~palmitar/Law&Valuation/Papers/1999/freitas.html
http://web.cba.neu.edu/~jwelch/PPT/Netscape%20IPO.ppt
)
Scene 1: May 2, 1999
S****** F****** was typing fast late in the light. The New Salem lights were dim outside. He had to submit his assignment in a few minutes and he had not even looked at the figures. Even if he had looked, he had precious little time to figure out anything.
The case-analysis was of the legendary 'Netscape's IPO'. Unlike the usual Harvard cases that start with a tensed executive staring philosophically out of the window, this one came straight to the point. Netscape wanted to get an IPO out. They had never made any money. All other sources of finance were dry. They decided to approach the stock markets. And dotcom gold diggers on wall street wanted the stock more badly than ever......
So, the question was what should be the price of a Netscape share. It primarily highlighted the difficulties faced in valuing a company where you know next to nothing about the company or the industry's future.
'God, thank you for creating excel with the drag and copy feature for the formulae', he thought as he put in his assignment for the day. For a 10 minute job, the excel could not have been better. However, it lacked any fundamental correlations with reality. A sane mind, with one reading of the case, could do no more than keeping hitting the delete button in frustration - hopelessly trying to eliminate all memory of the horrible effort.
Perhaps the professor will not actually verify the figures. Perhaps no one will look at the excel sheet. After all, you could have justified everything......
Scene 2: Between May 2, 1999 and June 4, 2007
Professor J****** W***** was sitting in his office gazing philosophically at the boston snow outside, imagining himself as the hero of a Harvard case study. An imperceptible sigh escaped his breath as he found himself battered with the meetings of the day. The case at the edge of the table caught his glance.
'Why did Netscape have to come out with that IPO. More so, why did they actually think someone could value it. Perhaps they wanted to enhance your number juggling skills......... does it really matter? Enough people can take care of these trifles without me wasting time over it.'
In another room, the screen of the TA jingled with a 'you have got mail' sign. The TA had actually recieved two mails. The first one confirming his evening out and the second one from the professor.
'What does that slave-driver want now? Another one of those stupid assignments with reams of excels and arbitrary powerpoints.'
As he gave a long look to the six pages of IPO pricing difficulties, it dawned on him that he would have to cancel that date. But perhaps there was some hope. The irony was not lost on him as he plugged on his netscape to search 'previous opinions' on the case. And he hit paydirt......... F*******.xls . A whole excel, with the the numbers crunched and digested. It looked a bit rough on the edges but any checking would only waste time.
Virtually anything under the sun could be written and argued for. Who's gonna read it anyway!
CTRL C and CTRL V with a little know-how of IPO underpricing, make for a good 4 slide ppt and a saved date.
Scene 3: August 3, 2007
'Triskaidekaphobia!' - exclaimed the t-shirt in and around Hostel 13 at II* L******. The grounds outside smelled of the fresh Lucknowi showers. A host of bugs pursued the incandescent lamps everywhere, mistaking them for the moon.
In one room of that hostel, a group of 5 students was pondering over the future of the cement industry. At least trying to, in the sultry dampness of a rainy monsoon.
Suddenly, another one torpedoed into the sage meeting, oblivious to all serenity. He was obviously excited.
I got a google. It's done by a professor. Some J*** W****. I don't think we need to check it.
The relief in the voice was palpable. It amounted to saving one more hour. They really needed that, if not for themselves, then for the cement industry. But all of them were not equally ethically challenged.
Abey excel toh bana le! (At least make the excel!)
The chiding remark ricocheted of the room walls. An eerie silence prevailed. Ethical uncertainity and the cement industry, the devil and the black sea - the choices were not very pleasing.
I have read the case. I have practically followed netscape from then on to its present avatar as FF. You can make an argument for any price. Change the growth rates here, the discount rates there and you can have a figure from 15-50. It's not worth spending any time over...
But the argument was not pervasive.
Then it's even better! The excel will not take more than 10 minutes.
The new entrant was tired, defeated. He retreated. He might as well as confirm the numbers with the case. He picked up the case and started checking the excel sheet. And then, he saw what S******* F****** thought no one will.
WTF!!
The story would have ended here, but it did not.
Scene 4: August 4, 2007
'WTF!!'
Expletives are not the most common words one mouths in class. But today was a groundbreaking day. A day which shook beliefs and reaffirmed the worst fears. A day which answered, 'Yes, the sky is breaking down and its gonna fall on you' and 'Yes, everyone is out to get you'.
It had all started with yesterday's announcement in class.
He's gone mad!
People will not read even one!
How will he complete it in 75 minutes ?
These were some of the sentences being bandied around the previous day. The voices were as incredulous as they were distressed. Some bright soul of a professor, going around by the name of A*** G***, had decided to give Harvard a run for its money.
Harvard pioneered the case study method. We will now teach them how to F*** Forward with case discussions.
These were his thoughts. OR perhaps he had an essential faith in their collective incompetency, which prompted the projection that there will be no discussion. There was no other reason why a sane individual would assume that 4 cases can be analyzed and discussed in a 75 minute class. The cases were small, but pretty complex in themselves, as in no one could precisely pinpoint even the issues involved. How do you predict for example, what valuation was correct for Netscape?
The group from Hostel 13 were sitting in the class with the new, modified, corrected and embellished solution. All thoughts concentrated on Netscape now. It was not perfect but was as near perfect as the group could take it.
Group * , can you make the presentation
The feeling of relief was as deep as it was imperceptible on all faces except of Group *. They had been called on to deliver judgment.
Dot com companies.. Business Model... IPO pricing.. blah.. blah
The torpodoing retreater of hostel 13 was sitting in this class. A sudden smile passed his lips as he saw the xls. He could not believe it. Yes, it was modified. It was clean of all mistakes. But the assumptions. They were unmistakably close. Others had done the same thing he had tried to attempt in his hostel, he mused. Hail Google! The source of one. The source of all. A patina of relief masked his face as Group * ended and A*** G*** started speaking.
Hopefully, a sane solution. Let's hope we get to learn here.
The mouse pointer moved towards the file. He could hear the click when it was selected and opened. The bits moved from the cpu to the projector at approximately the speed of light. From there to 70 pairs of eyes, they moved at the speed of light. The ones and the zeros arranged themselves to form a comprehensible display of numbers on screen. The optic nerve raced through with the numbers to the frontal cortex. The temporal lobe accessed the decidedly short term memory. As the excel sheet opened, his face lost all colour.
WTF!!
That was not the only or even the first expletive brought in by the excel sheet. This xls, the one the professor had brought to class was not even modified or corrected. It took time to sink in.
Ye bhi! (Him too !)
Hurried glances were exchanged throughout the class. Everyone knew what was wrong. They had spent the whole day trying to correct it!
And then the class attacked. If S***** F****** would have known 70 pairs of eyes were gonna go into a deepdive analysis of his excel, perhaps he would have been careful with the drag and drop. Or perhaps, J*** W****'s TA would have missed his date if he had witnessed the slaughter. The prof had not expected anyone to actually read the case. The tension was reflected in the beads of sweat on his face. The humiliation was evident as the case was dismissed hurriedly to be looked on at later (meaning never). He wondered, perhaps like all criminals do, when caught red-handed.
How do they know!
As the class exchanged smiles, they understood the unspoken fact. Everyone knew. Everyone read. Everyone googled.
(Some links which might be of interest:
http://www.wfu.edu/~palmitar/Law&Valuation/Papers/1999/FREITAS.XLS
http://www.wfu.edu/~palmitar/Law&Valuation/Papers/1999/freitas.html
http://web.cba.neu.edu/~jwelch/PPT/Netscape%20IPO.ppt
)
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Who created Valentine's Day ?
It was the last year at school. And it was Feb 14. Pretty awful. I passed out into phases of immense chagrin when I heard of friendship day, valentine's day, mother's day, father's day, doctor's day, engineer's day, poodle day, alarm-clock-that-never-rings day broken-needle-eye-with-unpassable-thread day....It was the one of those days that day. Hell! It was one of those days everyday now! It was difficult to find a normal Sunday or Monday in the calendar. And its not specifically easy to remember 365 different day names.
The class yesterday was not quite as interesting as I wanted it to be. The prof was saying something about exchange rates and then something about Tony Blair. Tony Blair has no currency left... That was about the only thing my mixed up mind could make out.
Why? Why is this happening ? Get me the old calendar back. Whole worlds of emotions were being compressed and done away with on single days. Wanna say thanks to your mother. Wish her on Mother's Day! That's it! You have done your job. You are a great son to have, she will surely tell herself. Why is this happening?
Tony Blair surely had enough money. He must have got that for the article he wrote in the economist. The prof was appreciating it for the third time now. I hope the economist did not pay profs...
How are people able to remember all of these days. Who was the brilliant (and masochistic) enough to inflict this pain on humanity. The world was going beyond my miniscule IQ, when I suddenly hit upon it.. It was not that great, but in school days, I really thought I did make a discovery and it made a lot of sense.
I saw a handout nearby. An interview of Anil Moolchandani. Someone was obviously sleeping in the marketing class. It was an interesting interview. Always listen to your customers, was the age-old marketing or rather business mantra I remembered. Can it be true the opposite way ?
I would gleefully go around asking people,
"Who created Valentine's Day ?'
An nonplussed answer would often be "St. Valentine", "The western world", "A pair of queasy lovers","A pair of queasy lovers with lots of spare time", "A pair of queasy lovers with lots of spare cash", "Who cares!"...... and so on.
Can a business shape consumers. Perhaps yes. Perhaps no. No sociologist today can deny the the impact of marketing on modern consumerist societies. Give the consumer what he wants.. or perhaps you can even tell him what he wants. I proceeded to a specific question in the interview...
Perhaps one answer was close.. however, I would soon delightfully scream "You are wrong! Guess what ? It's Archie's and Hallmark!" (Yes I know I turned cynical pretty early on. No need to rub it in!)
How are you planning to achieve the vision you have set for the Company?
We would like to be what we are - the leader for years to come. We will be responsible for creating occasions, so that people will find a reason to greet each other and keep in touch.
I would receive an amused smile and would smile in return. We lived in the marketer's world.
Mr Anil Moolchandani, Chairman-cum-Managing Director, Archies Ltd... I smiled as I remembered the last year of school..
The class yesterday was not quite as interesting as I wanted it to be. The prof was saying something about exchange rates and then something about Tony Blair. Tony Blair has no currency left... That was about the only thing my mixed up mind could make out.
Why? Why is this happening ? Get me the old calendar back. Whole worlds of emotions were being compressed and done away with on single days. Wanna say thanks to your mother. Wish her on Mother's Day! That's it! You have done your job. You are a great son to have, she will surely tell herself. Why is this happening?
Tony Blair surely had enough money. He must have got that for the article he wrote in the economist. The prof was appreciating it for the third time now. I hope the economist did not pay profs...
How are people able to remember all of these days. Who was the brilliant (and masochistic) enough to inflict this pain on humanity. The world was going beyond my miniscule IQ, when I suddenly hit upon it.. It was not that great, but in school days, I really thought I did make a discovery and it made a lot of sense.
I saw a handout nearby. An interview of Anil Moolchandani. Someone was obviously sleeping in the marketing class. It was an interesting interview. Always listen to your customers, was the age-old marketing or rather business mantra I remembered. Can it be true the opposite way ?
I would gleefully go around asking people,
"Who created Valentine's Day ?'
An nonplussed answer would often be "St. Valentine", "The western world", "A pair of queasy lovers","A pair of queasy lovers with lots of spare time", "A pair of queasy lovers with lots of spare cash", "Who cares!"...... and so on.
Can a business shape consumers. Perhaps yes. Perhaps no. No sociologist today can deny the the impact of marketing on modern consumerist societies. Give the consumer what he wants.. or perhaps you can even tell him what he wants. I proceeded to a specific question in the interview...
Perhaps one answer was close.. however, I would soon delightfully scream "You are wrong! Guess what ? It's Archie's and Hallmark!" (Yes I know I turned cynical pretty early on. No need to rub it in!)
How are you planning to achieve the vision you have set for the Company?
We would like to be what we are - the leader for years to come. We will be responsible for creating occasions, so that people will find a reason to greet each other and keep in touch.
I would receive an amused smile and would smile in return. We lived in the marketer's world.
Mr Anil Moolchandani, Chairman-cum-Managing Director, Archies Ltd... I smiled as I remembered the last year of school..
Sunday, January 21, 2007
A sense of deja vu...
The morning came with the afternoon sun. At 11.00 am almost, with my neighbour waking me up. 'I think you had a talk to attend, Ajit Balakrishnan.' Looked at the watch and realized the benefits of being battle-ready for such eventualities. Sleeping with your jeans on and having a pack of mint nearby can crunch the 'getting-ready' time to less than five minutes.
The talk was not worth a miss. Came with a quite a few doubts about the future of Indian BPO. But that calls for a separate post altogether. This post is about something else. It's about the possibilities that an Indian mind is ready to explore, sometimes with not the most honourable of intentions. Anyway, as I entered my room and picked up the toothbrush, my eyes lazed away to the day's anchor in TOI.
The lazed glance quickly metamorphosized into paper-grabbing interest. Hazy memories of recent times fought their way up, cutting through a mindful of wasteful thoughts.
"These coins are so heavy, you could make a profit if you just sell the steel!" I could remember my father's comment, though neither he nor anyone else quite accepted it as a practical business proposition. And whaddya know! Someone really turned into a business proposition. This is one cost of inflation I have never found in any macroeconomics textbooks. Of governments losing money by actually making it!A fine example of entrepreneurship if there ever was one. Of making possible what the mint of UK believes to be a frightfully difficult task for the common man. Of course, it also more than underscores the respect we have for stability in the current processes.
To actually capitalize on this stray thought process also tells us of the eager anticipation with which we look for holes in the system. Any and every way of governance and societal existence is open to total and unconditional exploitation. Sometimes, this leads to random sequences of ill-defined, unrepentant growth. On most other occasions, this effort at entrepreneurship ensures the preclusion of logical comforts which a human being should be entitled to enjoy. While I do not dream of Utopia, rightly known as the land which does not exist, I do wish for some laws which allow one the right to exercise an iota of judgment. Regulatory authorities being already aware of the general directions of the predisposition of this leniency, already acquire a non-surprising reluctance to provide any leeways from the bureaucratic juggernaut.
[Don't exactly know what I had in mind while writing this post, but I guess a publishing a half-written post is better than not publishing one. Dunno if the ending line is what I really wanted to say, but what the heck1 ]
To think we are proud of having the largest constitution in the world. Does it not, atleast in one sense, indicate that we are also the least law-abiding citizenry of the law-abiding world!
The talk was not worth a miss. Came with a quite a few doubts about the future of Indian BPO. But that calls for a separate post altogether. This post is about something else. It's about the possibilities that an Indian mind is ready to explore, sometimes with not the most honourable of intentions. Anyway, as I entered my room and picked up the toothbrush, my eyes lazed away to the day's anchor in TOI.
The lazed glance quickly metamorphosized into paper-grabbing interest. Hazy memories of recent times fought their way up, cutting through a mindful of wasteful thoughts.
"These coins are so heavy, you could make a profit if you just sell the steel!" I could remember my father's comment, though neither he nor anyone else quite accepted it as a practical business proposition. And whaddya know! Someone really turned into a business proposition. This is one cost of inflation I have never found in any macroeconomics textbooks. Of governments losing money by actually making it!A fine example of entrepreneurship if there ever was one. Of making possible what the mint of UK believes to be a frightfully difficult task for the common man. Of course, it also more than underscores the respect we have for stability in the current processes.
To actually capitalize on this stray thought process also tells us of the eager anticipation with which we look for holes in the system. Any and every way of governance and societal existence is open to total and unconditional exploitation. Sometimes, this leads to random sequences of ill-defined, unrepentant growth. On most other occasions, this effort at entrepreneurship ensures the preclusion of logical comforts which a human being should be entitled to enjoy. While I do not dream of Utopia, rightly known as the land which does not exist, I do wish for some laws which allow one the right to exercise an iota of judgment. Regulatory authorities being already aware of the general directions of the predisposition of this leniency, already acquire a non-surprising reluctance to provide any leeways from the bureaucratic juggernaut.
[Don't exactly know what I had in mind while writing this post, but I guess a publishing a half-written post is better than not publishing one. Dunno if the ending line is what I really wanted to say, but what the heck1 ]
To think we are proud of having the largest constitution in the world. Does it not, atleast in one sense, indicate that we are also the least law-abiding citizenry of the law-abiding world!
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