The chance of a third world war breaking out is remote. Read The World is Flat if you want to be convinced about this fact. Despite the supposed bad times that we are in economically, when you take account of the things around and as you zoom out, it is in fact not very hard to believe that the world as a whole is spawning on a path of self development. Technology is getting more sophisticated and life is in a way getting more comfortable, but the one thing that hasn’t changed is the human emotions and the way the mind works.
Our discussion here is about the domino effect that is created by the company a person keeps. By company, we imply those thoughts that fill a person’s mind in a given day. Like the saying goes- if you want to fly with the eagles, you’ve got to stop pecking with the hens. Who we hang around with and who we listen to is far too consequential that most of us hardly pay attention. One of the principles of personal success in any field as history has shown is to surround oneself with successful people. Group dynamics automatically ensures that an individual performs at a level close to that of his high performing peers.
Tracing back a well known fact, it is estimated that 1% of the world’s population controls close to 96% of the wealth on earth. Why is that we don’t have more than 1% doing this? The answer is association. If I could have a daily access to what is running though the head of Barrack Obama, or Roger Federer, I would be better positioned to think along the same lines and react like they would in circumstances. Association leads to a change in thinking, be it positive or negative. And what drives those thoughts is inspiration. If you got to spend a couple of minutes with a person you admire, you might probably come back feeling better. You would probably choose your actions differently from there on based on the inspiration you received from the person and not from the information you received in the form of advice.
Twitter, social networks, blogs and so on; the internet has put the 99% of the population in direct access with the 1%. There’s more unfiltered information coming though between the two camps that was unseen and unheard till recently. For instance, I can now follow my idol Shashi Tharoor and get into his mind through his tweets. Or I can understand at closer quarters what Aamir Khan is thinking through his blog. That inspiration drives the future. As more people start acting on that inspiration, and as success begins to breed success, it is but inevitable that we’ll see more wealth creators coming out. By the turn of 2050, that 1% could possibly become2%. In this way, the world has set itself up for a self perpetuating ride towards a brighter future thanks to the internet.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
A Home University
We are 5 of us living in an apartment in Chennai. After some tiring days of searching for houses that were more than just a hole-in-the-wall, we found a reasonably big and comfortable place to stay in Srinagar Colony, very close to Great Lakes Institute of Management. You must visit Srinagar Colony the next time you are in Chennai. This residential area is cut off from the hustle of the fast paced life of the city. The colony is typified with a temple and a banyan tree, and an upscale crowd that goes on jogs each morning in their Nike cut offs. Unlike us bachelors, the families around us are well settled and quite well-off. We are glad to be living next door to some influential names in south Indian cinema, theater, academia and politics.
Many of these families have kids that are growing up, in the age group of 12 to 21. Like any parent, the average parent in Srinagar colony would want their kid to excel in studies and in certain extra curricular activities as well. But the well-to-do families would also be willing to pay just as much a price for it too, for they understand that it isn’t wise to nickel dime good coaching. So Kashe and I got talking about setting up a Home University for these kids. Here’s the crux of the idea:
Like I said before, we are 5 of us living in 2 bedroom house. Now each of us is good in certain areas. For instance, one of us can speak and write Hindi very well. One other person is good at yoga and stretching exercises. Another one is good at cooking. Like this, by combining the areas of expertise of 5 of us, there is roughly about 15 areas that we could teach kids aged 12+. Classes would start every morning at 6. The yoga teacher would handle the yoga classes in the hall. The cooking classes would go on simultaneously in the kitchen. Math and French would be taught in each of the rooms respectively. Here’s the tentative list of subjects our home university is offering currently:
1) Hindi – Read, write and speak
2) Physics, Chemistry and Maths
3) Programming in C, C++ and Java
4) Basic Lessons in Salsa
5) Cooking
6) Basic Housekeeping for guys
7) Pranayam, Yoga and light exercises
8) Football
9) Riding geared bikes (only for valid license holders)
10) English – Write and speak fluently
11) Handling household electrical appliances
12) French – Read, write and speak (on Sundays only, special visiting faculty)
13) Western Vocals
14) Time Management
15) Geography
If you’d like to excel in any of the areas specified here, contact the marketing executive that is me. We can work out a package for you.
We are still working on a name for our home university. But we do have a punch line for the time being: “One school. Many skills”
Many of these families have kids that are growing up, in the age group of 12 to 21. Like any parent, the average parent in Srinagar colony would want their kid to excel in studies and in certain extra curricular activities as well. But the well-to-do families would also be willing to pay just as much a price for it too, for they understand that it isn’t wise to nickel dime good coaching. So Kashe and I got talking about setting up a Home University for these kids. Here’s the crux of the idea:
Like I said before, we are 5 of us living in 2 bedroom house. Now each of us is good in certain areas. For instance, one of us can speak and write Hindi very well. One other person is good at yoga and stretching exercises. Another one is good at cooking. Like this, by combining the areas of expertise of 5 of us, there is roughly about 15 areas that we could teach kids aged 12+. Classes would start every morning at 6. The yoga teacher would handle the yoga classes in the hall. The cooking classes would go on simultaneously in the kitchen. Math and French would be taught in each of the rooms respectively. Here’s the tentative list of subjects our home university is offering currently:
1) Hindi – Read, write and speak
2) Physics, Chemistry and Maths
3) Programming in C, C++ and Java
4) Basic Lessons in Salsa
5) Cooking
6) Basic Housekeeping for guys
7) Pranayam, Yoga and light exercises
8) Football
9) Riding geared bikes (only for valid license holders)
10) English – Write and speak fluently
11) Handling household electrical appliances
12) French – Read, write and speak (on Sundays only, special visiting faculty)
13) Western Vocals
14) Time Management
15) Geography
If you’d like to excel in any of the areas specified here, contact the marketing executive that is me. We can work out a package for you.
We are still working on a name for our home university. But we do have a punch line for the time being: “One school. Many skills”
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The calf syndrome
Thanks Ramya for the engaging conversation last evening. I’m sure Accenture wouldn’t be too pleased to read this! But nonetheless, you won yourself a surprise gift for the surprise idea.
I’m looking for the answer that settles this question once and for all: what is the right age to enter the workforce?
If that question is leading you to think in the direction of child labor, pause. What’s running through my head after close to a year in the corporate world is more or less what almost every other kid of my age is thinking, which is: work life sucks. I want to go back to college.
Let’s call this the calf syndrome. If you’ve seen a new born calf, you’ll know that anytime it tries to stand on its fours, the legs slip away in the opposite directions and give way. The calf lands with a thud and stays comfortable sitting. Until the legs stiffen up and get strong, the calf cannot do much but to stand and fall again.
The first year (at least) out of college into the workplace is like that in my opinion. You are trying to find your feet. Suddenly, the world looks bigger and more unforgiving than you initially anticipated. You come to realize that the kid in class who told you that rules are meant to be broken wasn’t quite right, after all. You get your Form 16 and you have no clue what it even means. All of a sudden, that thing called independence is no-where to be seen. For those of you still in college, you’ve been warned.
You know where I’m going with this. Close your eyes for a moment to all those souls who are crying to get back to college.
I’m reminded of an old joke that did the rounds: What’s common to an engineering college and a public toilet? Answer: The ones outside want to get in and the ones inside want to get out.
You can substitute ‘engineering college’ in that joke with ‘corporate’. And if you’re a fan of Shawshank Redemption, the calf syndrome lasts till you get institutionalized. How long would that be?
Depends.
I’m looking for the answer that settles this question once and for all: what is the right age to enter the workforce?
If that question is leading you to think in the direction of child labor, pause. What’s running through my head after close to a year in the corporate world is more or less what almost every other kid of my age is thinking, which is: work life sucks. I want to go back to college.
Let’s call this the calf syndrome. If you’ve seen a new born calf, you’ll know that anytime it tries to stand on its fours, the legs slip away in the opposite directions and give way. The calf lands with a thud and stays comfortable sitting. Until the legs stiffen up and get strong, the calf cannot do much but to stand and fall again.
The first year (at least) out of college into the workplace is like that in my opinion. You are trying to find your feet. Suddenly, the world looks bigger and more unforgiving than you initially anticipated. You come to realize that the kid in class who told you that rules are meant to be broken wasn’t quite right, after all. You get your Form 16 and you have no clue what it even means. All of a sudden, that thing called independence is no-where to be seen. For those of you still in college, you’ve been warned.
You know where I’m going with this. Close your eyes for a moment to all those souls who are crying to get back to college.
I’m reminded of an old joke that did the rounds: What’s common to an engineering college and a public toilet? Answer: The ones outside want to get in and the ones inside want to get out.
You can substitute ‘engineering college’ in that joke with ‘corporate’. And if you’re a fan of Shawshank Redemption, the calf syndrome lasts till you get institutionalized. How long would that be?
Depends.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Always grateful, but never enough
My Principal in high school taught us chemistry. Besides the Aufbau principle of how electrons fill into the atomic sub-shells, I remember one other thing she told us. It was on our graduation day and I quote her “The purpose of an education is not to compete with the other person; but rather, it is about competing with oneself”. How boring and clichéd is that statement? Very.
But how important and significant is it? Very.
In his blog, my friend Sumeet talks about an inner struggle. He describes his constant search for perfection in anything he does, or in anything he seeks. A part of the brain is constantly scanning and probing around to show each of us why that guy or girl is better than us. Sumeet goes on to describe how we live our lives by measuring ourselves with our peers. Or what the world popularly knows as keeping-up-with-the-Joneses. A key takeaway from his article for me was the line “i myself think of many things i have not and i am not. it brings a feeling of discontentment towards quality of life in me …”. This line packs in everything that I was looking to tell my audience on this blog.
Society teaches us to operate from a win-lose paradigm - that in order for me to win, someone needs to lose; that there are only so many seats available and there are more people in the race than there are seats available. In a nut shell, we are told from day one that there is a ‘lack of’ resources in this world. Stats are all over the place showing how only a fraction of the people who appear for the IIT/IIM entrance exams clear them. A kid comes home from school with the report card, and the mother asks “How much did Karthik get? How much did Richa get?” The kid must have got 4th rank, while Karthik and Richa stood 1st and 2nd respectively. The mother doesn’t appreciate the fact that her kid outperformed 35 others in class. She instead chooses to focus on the fact that her kid lags behind 3 others. So there on, the kid is constantly operating from a feeling of ‘not enough’. And this remains until the ‘not enough’ becomes a part of the gene. That kid could be you. That kid could be me. This is the kid that moves through life with a sense of zero accomplishment even when that may not be the case.
How is this problem fixed?
I heard this somewhere and it made sense to me. This is not about thinking positive. It is about working with a sense of gratitude; and gratitude is a word I go back to very often. That is to say you are thankful for whatever you have now, but we just can’t stagnate here. Always grateful, but never enough.
“Fantastic that I outperformed 35 others in class. Superb! But how can I get to number 1?”
And mom, when the child falls, you don’t shoot the shoot the wounded.
But how important and significant is it? Very.
In his blog, my friend Sumeet talks about an inner struggle. He describes his constant search for perfection in anything he does, or in anything he seeks. A part of the brain is constantly scanning and probing around to show each of us why that guy or girl is better than us. Sumeet goes on to describe how we live our lives by measuring ourselves with our peers. Or what the world popularly knows as keeping-up-with-the-Joneses. A key takeaway from his article for me was the line “i myself think of many things i have not and i am not. it brings a feeling of discontentment towards quality of life in me …”. This line packs in everything that I was looking to tell my audience on this blog.
Society teaches us to operate from a win-lose paradigm - that in order for me to win, someone needs to lose; that there are only so many seats available and there are more people in the race than there are seats available. In a nut shell, we are told from day one that there is a ‘lack of’ resources in this world. Stats are all over the place showing how only a fraction of the people who appear for the IIT/IIM entrance exams clear them. A kid comes home from school with the report card, and the mother asks “How much did Karthik get? How much did Richa get?” The kid must have got 4th rank, while Karthik and Richa stood 1st and 2nd respectively. The mother doesn’t appreciate the fact that her kid outperformed 35 others in class. She instead chooses to focus on the fact that her kid lags behind 3 others. So there on, the kid is constantly operating from a feeling of ‘not enough’. And this remains until the ‘not enough’ becomes a part of the gene. That kid could be you. That kid could be me. This is the kid that moves through life with a sense of zero accomplishment even when that may not be the case.
How is this problem fixed?
I heard this somewhere and it made sense to me. This is not about thinking positive. It is about working with a sense of gratitude; and gratitude is a word I go back to very often. That is to say you are thankful for whatever you have now, but we just can’t stagnate here. Always grateful, but never enough.
“Fantastic that I outperformed 35 others in class. Superb! But how can I get to number 1?”
And mom, when the child falls, you don’t shoot the shoot the wounded.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Malleswaram on a Platter - P2
This is the second part of the series that brings to you the best eateries in and around Malleswaram, Bangalore.
Check here for Part 1.
6) Halli Mane: Opened in 2003 in 3rd cross on Sampige Road in the same place where the legendary Planters’ Coffee Home once stood. The ancient restaurant closed down soon after Amrith Café opened across the street. A couple of years later, Halli Mane (meaning Rural Restaurant) opened with all its marketing paraphernalia and in a few months brought Amrith to it’s knees. This place is best known for some classic Karnataka delicacies like akki roti, raagi roti and raagi mudhe. The bonda soup started out very promisingly but has dropped down a couple of notches in recent times. But you really want to go here only for one thing: coffee. That’s it.
7) Juice Kade at IISC Gymkhana: Extremely popular with the folks inside IISc, obviously. It is located at the foot of the yellow overhead bridge on the road connecting Malleswaram to Yeshwantpur, inside the IISc compound. Entry is through any of the IISc gates. Every single juice is shockingly tasty and is prepared under hygienic conditions. The milk shakes are a bit disappointing though. But the low prices of the stuff here is worth making the trip for. Here’s what you do: get a glass of juice and climb the steps of the yellow bridge. Walk up to the middle of the connecting platform. Look below as the buses, cars and tempos zip by beneath your feet and freak yourself out.
8) Iyengar’s Bakery: While ‘Iyengar’s Bakery’ need not necessarily refer to any one particular bakery, the place of interest here is the one adjacent to Asha Food Camp on 11th Cross Malleswaram. It’s not uncommon to see a string of Iyengar's Bakeries around the city and this often leads the newcomer into believing that a certain ambitious entrepreneur with a second name ‘Iyengar’ started a franchise business of bakeries around Bangalore. That’s not quite true. The Iyengar's bakery in Malleswaram may be completely unrelated to the one in Basavangudi or to the one in Banaswadi.
Coming back to our place on 11th cross, there’s whole lot of things the guys excels at making- dilpasand, khara bun, honey cake and benne biscuit to name a few. But your trip to the bakery has been futile if you didn’t add rusk to your basket. 250 grams, 25 bucks: that’s all it takes to rock-n-roll. Plus filter coffee from Cothas for the rusk to bathe in.
9) Cothas Coffee: Located on Sampige Road opposite to the bus stand on 10th Cross is the headquarters of Cothas Coffee, the authentic and original south Indian coffee. Other coffee brands can take a shower. You want to ask the shop keeper for the Home Blend variety. If I’m not wrong, it’s 20% chicory.
10) Bhagyalakshmi Ghulkand: (Credit: Narayanaswamy). One-of-a-kind store that sells all the varities of ghulkand. Ghulkand is a sweet item made from extracts of rose petals and is eaten with butter. Yum! This little store is located at Malleswaram circle at the junction of the underpass (what was earlier the traffic signal, for those of you who haven’t been here in some time). Ask for the dry fruits with ice cream version of gulkand. Good stuff. And then, pack some for home because you’ll need it.
(to be continued)
Check here for Part 1.
6) Halli Mane: Opened in 2003 in 3rd cross on Sampige Road in the same place where the legendary Planters’ Coffee Home once stood. The ancient restaurant closed down soon after Amrith Café opened across the street. A couple of years later, Halli Mane (meaning Rural Restaurant) opened with all its marketing paraphernalia and in a few months brought Amrith to it’s knees. This place is best known for some classic Karnataka delicacies like akki roti, raagi roti and raagi mudhe. The bonda soup started out very promisingly but has dropped down a couple of notches in recent times. But you really want to go here only for one thing: coffee. That’s it.
7) Juice Kade at IISC Gymkhana: Extremely popular with the folks inside IISc, obviously. It is located at the foot of the yellow overhead bridge on the road connecting Malleswaram to Yeshwantpur, inside the IISc compound. Entry is through any of the IISc gates. Every single juice is shockingly tasty and is prepared under hygienic conditions. The milk shakes are a bit disappointing though. But the low prices of the stuff here is worth making the trip for. Here’s what you do: get a glass of juice and climb the steps of the yellow bridge. Walk up to the middle of the connecting platform. Look below as the buses, cars and tempos zip by beneath your feet and freak yourself out.
8) Iyengar’s Bakery: While ‘Iyengar’s Bakery’ need not necessarily refer to any one particular bakery, the place of interest here is the one adjacent to Asha Food Camp on 11th Cross Malleswaram. It’s not uncommon to see a string of Iyengar's Bakeries around the city and this often leads the newcomer into believing that a certain ambitious entrepreneur with a second name ‘Iyengar’ started a franchise business of bakeries around Bangalore. That’s not quite true. The Iyengar's bakery in Malleswaram may be completely unrelated to the one in Basavangudi or to the one in Banaswadi.
Coming back to our place on 11th cross, there’s whole lot of things the guys excels at making- dilpasand, khara bun, honey cake and benne biscuit to name a few. But your trip to the bakery has been futile if you didn’t add rusk to your basket. 250 grams, 25 bucks: that’s all it takes to rock-n-roll. Plus filter coffee from Cothas for the rusk to bathe in.
9) Cothas Coffee: Located on Sampige Road opposite to the bus stand on 10th Cross is the headquarters of Cothas Coffee, the authentic and original south Indian coffee. Other coffee brands can take a shower. You want to ask the shop keeper for the Home Blend variety. If I’m not wrong, it’s 20% chicory.
10) Bhagyalakshmi Ghulkand: (Credit: Narayanaswamy). One-of-a-kind store that sells all the varities of ghulkand. Ghulkand is a sweet item made from extracts of rose petals and is eaten with butter. Yum! This little store is located at Malleswaram circle at the junction of the underpass (what was earlier the traffic signal, for those of you who haven’t been here in some time). Ask for the dry fruits with ice cream version of gulkand. Good stuff. And then, pack some for home because you’ll need it.
(to be continued)
Monday, June 8, 2009
It’s all in the blood
While Malleswaram sits still on a platter, here’s a small diversion before we get back to eateries that serve good food and don’t rip people off.
The theme for today’s post is about habits – specifically those that have come down the family tree because no one really bothered to stop and ask why. My grandmother, like grandparents of many of us, grew up in some pretty tough times. It was just around the time of independence and growing up on a very limited income was a challenge. Money and resources around the house in general were mostly in a shortfall. This meant that every food item or every piece of clothing had to be utilized sparingly and to the fullest extent possible.
Such was the case when the household bought milk each morning. Grandma would transfer the milk to a vessel on the stove, and the one containing the milk initially was washed well with a small quantity of water and later poured into the second vessel containing the remaining milk. This was done to ensure that not a drop of milk was wasted. Time went by and the state milk corporation started delivering milk in packets of half liter and one liter. With Grandma, the same steps applied for the plastic packets. Cut, pour, rinse and pour. But there was an additional step this time. The packet would be washed thoroughly once again with water, and the water would be allowed to drain by the kitchen sink. The inside of the cover would dry in a few hours and the now redundant milk packet would go into a big yellow plastic bag along with milk packets from the previous weeks. This collection of milk packets went on for a month or two till the big yellow bag could hold no more. Grandpa would then dispose them off to the paperwala in exchange for 2 bucks.
This practice is prevalent in many south Indian households. Watching this in action, my mother sub consciously grew habituated to cleaning milk covers and collecting them. Years rolled on and the family finances stabilized to the point where drops of milk could be deemed insignificant to the monthly budget. But the habit stayed in the blood. We lived in a fabulous neighborhood, would eat out at fine restaurants, wore good clothes and even bought a PC when PCs at home were uncommon. Yet, my mother continued to clean and dry milk covers and collected them in exchange for 10 bucks from the paperwala: not because she wanted the 10 bucks, but because she was so programmed to what her mother did that she continued to do it without once stopping and questioning the relevance of the practice in present day.
I learnt the same from my mother in my early teens. I would cut open the packet of milk, pour it, rinse the cover, pour it again, clean it, dry it and stack it. It was in the DNA. Until one day in high school, I went to a friend’s house. His mother was not at home. We decided to whip up a yummy chocolate milk shake on that summer noon. My friend opened the fridge in the kitchen and got out the packet of milk. He poured the contents into a vessel. And right there before my eyes, he threw the cover in the dustbin. I almost had a heart attack at that young age. I guess his great grand parents were well to do.
The theme for today’s post is about habits – specifically those that have come down the family tree because no one really bothered to stop and ask why. My grandmother, like grandparents of many of us, grew up in some pretty tough times. It was just around the time of independence and growing up on a very limited income was a challenge. Money and resources around the house in general were mostly in a shortfall. This meant that every food item or every piece of clothing had to be utilized sparingly and to the fullest extent possible.
Such was the case when the household bought milk each morning. Grandma would transfer the milk to a vessel on the stove, and the one containing the milk initially was washed well with a small quantity of water and later poured into the second vessel containing the remaining milk. This was done to ensure that not a drop of milk was wasted. Time went by and the state milk corporation started delivering milk in packets of half liter and one liter. With Grandma, the same steps applied for the plastic packets. Cut, pour, rinse and pour. But there was an additional step this time. The packet would be washed thoroughly once again with water, and the water would be allowed to drain by the kitchen sink. The inside of the cover would dry in a few hours and the now redundant milk packet would go into a big yellow plastic bag along with milk packets from the previous weeks. This collection of milk packets went on for a month or two till the big yellow bag could hold no more. Grandpa would then dispose them off to the paperwala in exchange for 2 bucks.
This practice is prevalent in many south Indian households. Watching this in action, my mother sub consciously grew habituated to cleaning milk covers and collecting them. Years rolled on and the family finances stabilized to the point where drops of milk could be deemed insignificant to the monthly budget. But the habit stayed in the blood. We lived in a fabulous neighborhood, would eat out at fine restaurants, wore good clothes and even bought a PC when PCs at home were uncommon. Yet, my mother continued to clean and dry milk covers and collected them in exchange for 10 bucks from the paperwala: not because she wanted the 10 bucks, but because she was so programmed to what her mother did that she continued to do it without once stopping and questioning the relevance of the practice in present day.
I learnt the same from my mother in my early teens. I would cut open the packet of milk, pour it, rinse the cover, pour it again, clean it, dry it and stack it. It was in the DNA. Until one day in high school, I went to a friend’s house. His mother was not at home. We decided to whip up a yummy chocolate milk shake on that summer noon. My friend opened the fridge in the kitchen and got out the packet of milk. He poured the contents into a vessel. And right there before my eyes, he threw the cover in the dustbin. I almost had a heart attack at that young age. I guess his great grand parents were well to do.
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