<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176</id><updated>2011-12-27T14:59:09.132+05:30</updated><category term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><category term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><category term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><category term='Processes'/><title type='text'>GD Strikes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-781914996238766146</id><published>2011-10-11T22:56:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-10-11T23:01:22.333+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><title type='text'>Horse-riding and Management lessons…</title><content type='html'>It is quite fashionable nowadays to tag anything other than learning of “true management” to management lessons. And so I thought I should also contribute to this confusion (read innovation) and in this post will attribute my horse-riding lessons to how I think they can be mapped to some management lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why horse-riding of all other hobbies and sports?” you may ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me come out clean here. One, I want to tell the world that finally I am learning what I loved to do always – control an animal (that is tamable). And two, why not? This is a fairly expensive sport, alright. But so are classical dance classes and golf classes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding a horse gives me a sense of utmost freedom and a spirit of holding the reins (in true sense!). And so, hearing me rant about this life time wish of mine, my hubby gifted this course as a surprise on my birthday. Mind you, only the initial deposit and first month fees are from him as a gift. I have to manage the monthly fee myself, on an on-going basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Listen to the coach. &lt;/strong&gt;Now this is absent in most of our systems. I mean the “listening” skills. We assume we know everything. Only when we actually start the job we realize how much there is to learn to become an expert. We can avoid quite a few mistakes if only we “listened” to our coaches, as they advise, rather than on hindsight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Learn the basics well and thoroughly. &lt;/strong&gt;This is important. Most of the times, we imagine that we can manage without knowing what it takes to build software or what it takes to manage finance. This is entirely a wrong approach. I think it is a must to know the basics. Else the horse, over a period of time, will push you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #3:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don’t ever try to overdo at least in the initial stages. &lt;/strong&gt;Learn slowly but steadily. Overdoing in the initial stages causes a lot of harm than good. This is personal experience. In our eagerness to learn and implement all at the same time, we do not realize that we are putting quite a few stakeholders in trouble. Also, it is difficult to retain the same pace after we start full-fledged. Expectation setting is a must to avoid burn-downs. Go slow, but be steady and focused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #4:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Observe from other riders (both their mistakes as well as their expert strokes). &lt;/strong&gt;As I ride, I made it a habit to look around as well. Their seating posture, the way they hold the reins, the way they trot, the way they keep their feet in the stirrup, the way they hold the whip… especially from ace riders, there is a lot we can learn just by observation. In fact, I had video shot myself and started checking my mistakes. If only we could do that in the real life corporate management (I mean the self video shooting)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #5:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Go with the rhythm. &lt;/strong&gt;There is a certain rhythm in everything we do or see. We need to understand and imbibe that. In fact, the very 3rd class, the senior most coach commended me on my rhythm and he said that was the most important skill in horse-riding. Getting right the balance and the rhythm of the place where we are is a key to success. Drawing comparisons to workplace, we need to see if the culture and the values of the teams that we are in, are in tune with our own. Where the rhythm does not coincide, it is sheer cacophony!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #6:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do not lean (forwards or backwards); sit upright and be alert. &lt;/strong&gt;While riding, this is one important thing to maintain – the posture. If I lean forward, my coach keeps shouting “do not lean; sit back straight”. Does he realize that my back is breaking?! He knows and he says learning to ride was my conscious decision. So is management! No manager can afford to stoop (read crumble or lose balance) as he is running his team. This will result in the manager crash landing on the team’s neck and choke them as well. How true! Remain balanced; Be alert!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #7:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hold the reins firm…else you may be in danger. &lt;/strong&gt;Please read this again. I have not said hold the reins tight. I have said hold them firmly. We maneuver with the reins. If we lost control or hold them back tight, the results will not be what we desire. We should know when to hold firm, when to let slightly lose and when to pull back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #8:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stay connected to the horse. &lt;/strong&gt;Stay connected always with the teams. This is one of the biggest secret recipes to success. Knowing the pulse of our people is essential. We should know (like the back of our palms), how teams will react and who in the team is our spokesperson and who is not (and why). This is possible only if we stay connected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #9:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nudge and/or whip the horse when it slows down; don’t beat. &lt;/strong&gt;My coach taught me how to nudge the horse on its belly with my heels and how to whip in such a way that it does not hurt the horse (really) but makes it run/trot. Key thing here is to pass the message without a lot of heart burn and still get desired results/productivity J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #10:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Show the horse some carrots (at least occasionally). &lt;/strong&gt;The very first class, my trainer told me, “Next time, get some carrots for your horse. It takes all your burden and runs. Show some kindness in return”. Can we show the same carrots, again and again, over a period of time to the horse? No way! It has to be fresh carrots every time! Got the message, yeah?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #11:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Realize when your horse is tired. &lt;/strong&gt;You don’t have to neigh but make sure you understand the horse’s language. Surprisingly, after learning all the tricks, I realized that to whatever extent I used them, the horse refused to move after let’s say a 40-45 minute ordeal of me trying to trot on it. That’s when the trainer said, that the horse gets tired and that I should know it by now through its body language!!! Tell me how many of us truly realize when our teams are worn out or burnt out? Do we even stop by to check on them? This is an extension on my Management Lesson #9 (if you have forgotten, please read this again) J.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #12:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Make it appear pleasurable and effortless. &lt;/strong&gt;Can you imagine someone riding the horse sweating and fretting and giving you an impression that he/she would fall-off any moment; the horse might tumble and fall down right now? What does it indicate? It is not a pleasant sight, right? Holds good in terms of Management as well! Who will want to see a team run by a panic-struck manager/management? It has to look effortless but the biggest of crisis should be solved. Possible? Why not!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Management Lesson #13:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finally, don’t blame the horse if you don’t win! &lt;/strong&gt;Do I need to explain this further?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: I realize that from every aspect of what we see in life (from the holy books to something menial) there are quite a few hidden treasures of management lessons. If only we cared to understand all those and implement?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-781914996238766146?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/781914996238766146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=781914996238766146' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/781914996238766146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/781914996238766146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2011/10/horse-riding-and-management-lessons.html' title='Horse-riding and Management lessons…'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-6093889367427376605</id><published>2010-04-23T13:04:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-23T13:06:10.693+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>The rodent hunt...</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been part of a “rat hunt”? I mean, not in any jungle or deep forests. In your own house? Have you tried chasing a rodent away? A big fat one at that? I have witnessed this in my house when I was in class VIII. My father was the protagonist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was around 10:00 PM and we had done with our dinner. My siblings and I were sorting our books for the next day school and my father was finishing up with his office work. Unusually, my mom had hit the bed early that night. Both my siblings, my father and I were in the living room of the small but beautiful house in Chennai. My mom was in the bedroom. Suddenly, we saw a creature cross the hall in between my sister’s legs jumping across my brother’s books. When we realized what it was, the screams and the mini-marathons started. My sis climbed up on the sofa; my brother on the dining chair. I was prancing around frantically not knowing where to land. My father got up from the chair and the first thing that he did was - latched the 2 bedrooms and opened the front door. All this he did jumping across the mess of books on the floor, making sure he does not stomp on the poor rat. The sight was hilarious, to say the least. Me being the brat of the house, kept giggling at this sight. I guess that must have irritated my father more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took a long, fine stick (an antique asset in the house) and started attacking the rat. I think he first wanted to chase it away via the front door. The rat was going in circles. It would go near the exit and immediately take diversion into the hall again. This happened for about 30 full minutes. Whether the rat was tired or not, my father was absolutely exhausted. Then an idea struck him. He asked me to get the insecticide which is used to kill insects and roaches. I promptly fetched that for him. My siblings were still atop their perch. My father hit the spray fierce fully on the rat. It started moving slowly now but did not give up the race. My father, who had followed non-violence until that night, switched to violence in that one hour. He started poking the rat whenever it went to a corner of the room in its dizziness. In fact, he kept stating “you die, you die…I will kill you…you stupid beast”. All this, made the 3 of us laugh more hysterically. Do you think the rat died? No way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, the night watchman who does his rounds around this time saw that the lights were on in our house and it was so noisy at that hour. He stepped in to give some unsolicited advice. Very casually, he said “Why don’t you pour water on the rat? Usually rats faint when water is poured on them.” We also like dumb-fools, immediately cleared the floor of our books and brought in buckets of water and splashed on the rat in those odd hours. Whatever little dizziness, the rat had due to the spray, the water-treatment cured that and the rat started running more energetically now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after about one and a half hours of violent chase, my father managed to send it out of our house! Phew!! Wait – all was not over! Throughout, there was this soul from the bedroom, which kept asking us what was wrong and why she was locked up. We just said that there is a huge rat and we are chasing it. That was all! When we opened the bedroom at about 11:30 PM…guess what we saw?! There my mom was… shivering and standing on the cot, lest the rat would enter her room!!! That was the best hilarious sight I have seen till this date!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone asking what can a rat do? It can cause a rio(a)t!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-6093889367427376605?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/6093889367427376605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=6093889367427376605' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/6093889367427376605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/6093889367427376605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2010/04/rodent-hunt.html' title='The rodent hunt...'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-5026982548278370721</id><published>2009-11-06T15:07:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:08:20.105+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>Surprises...sky is the limit!</title><content type='html'>Have you had surprises in life? No. Not the nasty ones. I guess we all have our own quota of those. I am referring to the pleasant surprises. You know what the word “surprise” means? Astonishment? Revelation? And all the positive synonyms of the word rush to my mind when I think of the one that I received for my birthday last, as a gift from… none less than my darling hubby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, we have the midnight 12 O’clock birthday surprises where I get loads of gifts ranging from tangibles to intangibles…varying from dresses to jewelries to cakes to cards…This past birthday was different! Also, when the day dawns I look forward to my mom’s wishes first. I always think that I owe every birthday of mine to her and am quite sentimental about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last birthday…I waited with bated breath for 12 midnight. The excitement was too much! I was assuming there are gifts tucked around every corner of the new villa we moved into recently. To my dismay, there were no wishes, no cards, no gifts, no messages, no mails…I was so troubled. I slept to hide my disgruntlement. Next morning, while still in bed, I was wondering why my mom did not call, my hubby did not wish, my relatives did not bother…As I was pondering, there was a knock on my door…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you should know some background to follow the rest of the story. I have been brought up in a very orthodox culture and my hubby, just the opposite of it. He hated any of our rites and rituals. He discourages religious sentiments, beliefs, practices and the “must-do”, “must-follow” culture. He is more of a free thinker and does not even believe in idol worship. We have these mini-wars waged at home all the time. Though I have been brought up in an orthodox culture, I am very tolerant and strongly feel one should not be fanatic about anything. Hence the wars at home used to reach some heights when both forces oppose strongly on some contention!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since ours was a love marriage, we always used to support the spouse within our own families though we fight with each other for little, trivial stuff ourselves! That is love, you see! J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my last birthday…I was pondering deep on why the whole world pretended to have forgotten that I was born on that day! The knock at the door stopped my thoughts. And who enters my room at 7 AM in the morning you think? It was my MOM! I could not believe my eyes. I instantly started weeping. Just as I tried controlling my tears of joy, my brother was behind her! Then my sis-in-law with both their kids!! My tears were rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably now!! Then enters my sister, her hubby and her 2 children. Now all this happened in less than 10 minutes. I went crazy crying. The photos could tell you stories. There I was crying and all my near and dears laughing their hearts out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait! That is not all. We had just moved in to our new house and we were waiting to do the house-warming with some rituals as I insisted that I wanted it that way. My hubby was not for it but he was contemplating if he should really please me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom asked me to peep outside the balcony. And, I saw that there was a huge canopy put up outside our house! She ordered me to stop crying now (maybe they were tired?) and go and have a bath. And so I did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I came out dressed, she asked me to step out to see what arrangements were made. My heart almost stopped beating when I saw what was getting ready in my own house. I did not even dream that this would happen. Yes. The entire setting was changed to reflect a typical orthodox house and the ceremony was about to begin with flames of fire being invoked to start the holy rituals. Not an exaggeration…but I could not breathe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of this, he had made secret arrangements and flew my friend down from the neighboring state. She is the one and only CLOSE friend that I confide in. And there she was smilingly waiting to see the surprised look on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the day went by in smaller and larger surprises. Nothing to beat this birthday of mine and nothing to challenge the depth of surprises that I received that day! I think I will remember this day until the end of my life…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now whenever I fight with this darling devil of mine, the whole house goes (I am in a joint family)…”don’t forget your last birthday…don’t forget how your hubby has ‘adjusted’ his policies to arrange for all those things he never believes in just to surprise/please you…don’t forget….” It goes on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am stumped by his love for me! And also by the kind of things he can do without my knowledge!! I better watch over, yeah?! J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-5026982548278370721?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/5026982548278370721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=5026982548278370721' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5026982548278370721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5026982548278370721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/11/surprisessky-is-limit.html' title='Surprises...sky is the limit!'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-8033335695627026224</id><published>2009-09-06T21:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-06T21:33:04.724+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>In different States…in different states…</title><content type='html'>Noticed the capitalization of the proper noun and the common noun of the word “states”? Before you guess what this post could be about let me clear any air…this is about my travel to the US that lasted 2 weeks. No, no…not a boring travelogue…but just my mental conditions before and during the journey as I travelled across…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The itinerary was crazy. I had to visit 4 groups of customers across the East Coast and the Central US. Not being a big time travel buff myself, I was kind of half-hearted about this entire agenda. Checked if I could drop a couple of places but as luck would have it, I could not change much on the calendar. L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a jiffy, would just cover up the places I visited and the routes. Hopped on to the flight from Chennai-Heathrow-Boston-New York-New Jersey-Chicago-Iowa City-Chicago-Indianapolis-Boston-Heathrow-Chennai! Huh!!! Tired, already? Imagine my condition…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving 2 kids and a loving hubby back in India, boarded the flight in a ‘state’ of depression thinking about the temporary separation. Though I think they were rejoicing about my absence?? I could see that naughty smile on my hubby’s face and that mixed emotions in my sons’. J Such separations are blessings in disguise. We understand the need for our space and start falling in love with each other all over again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Heathrow to Boston, I was throughout traveling in a ‘state’ of expectation. What will my customer want to hear from me? What is my team waiting to understand from me? What will be the perception? What should it be once I complete my visit? How will I achieve this? How will I present the status to the customers? Too many ‘whats’ and a few ‘hows’…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a foodie and only a strict vegetarian at that, my next ‘state’ was that of hunger. Will I get food today? Indian?  Vegetarian?  On time? Forget tasty…just something that is edible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boston treated me well. Rather, I should say, my teams treated me well all across. I was hosted for a few luncheons and a few dinners. Awesome, man! I really know what our food means to each of us! From that ‘state’ of tummy-needs fulfillment, then my ‘state’ moved on to that of boredom. What will I do over the weekend? No family…no friends…what do I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss and my peer came to my rescue. They offered to take me around the city of New Jersey. Needless to say it was so much fun! That wish also fulfilled… I was now in a ‘state’ of mission half-accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still had a week to go. Moved on to the ‘State’ of Iowa and had a hectic schedule there too…what with 10 team members to talk to and 5 important meetings in just over 2 days?! But this was thoroughly revealing and immensely useful. By now, I was in a ‘state’ of skepticism. Will I be able to complete the rest of my meetings as planned before I get back? Will I accomplish the targets set out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did! Changed the schedule a little bit to accommodate a couple of meetings in Indiana. Around this time, I was rest assured that the trip has been near successful. But the best is yet to come! I had to meet one of the key customers in Boston and that too on the day I planned to leave to India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the climax meeting and it went on all too well. But by now along with a complete sense of accomplishment, I was also pushed to a ‘state’ of exhaustion. I think the trip had started working on me! I started feeling like a zombie and dizzied! What brought back the energy in me was the feeling that I am going to be back with my family in the next 24 hours…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this post as I am waiting to board my flight back to Chennai. Now, I know, my mental ‘state’ is that of the excited one!  Can’t wait more to be back with ‘my’ family, ‘my’ team and eat ‘my’ food, in ‘my’ own India…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy that I am returning to the ‘State’ of Tamil Nadu…J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-8033335695627026224?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/8033335695627026224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=8033335695627026224' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/8033335695627026224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/8033335695627026224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-different-statesin-different-states.html' title='In different States…in different states…'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-7035442791374995779</id><published>2009-09-03T02:58:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-03T03:29:46.255+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>Unfulfilled dreams of a common man…</title><content type='html'>My childhood remembrances of my handsome-looking father are still fresh in my memory. I guess it will stay that way as long as I am alive. He used to tuck me in between his arms as he goes to sleep and treat me as a cushion! I was the only relatively chubby and plump child of my 3 siblings. And hence I got treated as the “pillow” for my father!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a man of principles. First son in a family of 6, from the time he was 13, he started shouldering quite a few responsibilities. He had an older father and an younger mother. His siblings treated him as Demigod. He was the one who had to raise them and tend to their needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did that well and kept them under total control. To the extent, he used to sign the report cards of his siblings ever since the age of 19!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had been a man very closed…a man who would not even confide in my mother. She loved him dearly and still loves him after 12 years of his death. But for some reason he kept to himself, especially his worries. He graduated when he was 19 and took up a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my father brought my mom home after their marriage, my mother still says that she was shocked to see the poverty in the house. A small, petite house was the nest of 9 adults! The determined and enterprising woman my mother has/had been, she immediately made up her mind to support him until the last. And, she did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wanted to pursue his Chartered Accountancy. He failed many times. As many as 10 times? Or may be more? But with perseverance he completed his ACS. And he did get a decent offer from one of the best companies at that time. By then he was 32. Then his climb started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His other interest was theatres. In fact, he kind of injected that passion of his, onto all his 3 children. He was an amazing theatre artist who never got a professional break in theatres. He also was quite talented in script-writing. Looking back, I am simply amazed at what passion can do for a man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with a demanding personal life filled with monetary challenges and sibling worries, he had to manage his professional life and also feed his passion. But not for my mother, I doubt if he would have been so successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had a huge fan-following in his professional circles. He was elected President in the same institute for ACS professionals - the exams of which he failed so many times. Isn’t that a superb feat? He also started conducting classes for aspiring ACS students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest downside was, as much as he worked for in professional life, he never heeded to nature’s signals on his health. He was disciplined and had no bad practices. However, as my brother puts it, he also did not have any good practices. He never used to work out. He soon was diagnosed diabetic. He was 45 then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time, his siblings had more or less settled though they kept looking up to him for any of their own personal/professional life hurdles. But at this stage his children became his source for worries. We were good children but life played havoc in my sister’s marital life. My brother was not inclined in academically qualifying himself. And, for myself, I did the most daring thing of finding my life-partner which was a huge shock to my father. He had been an orthodox person all through and I had chosen a person he could not agree to. Though eventually he gave in and liked my choice, the initial days were filled with trauma both for me and for my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the age of 56, he was diagnosed with kidney failure. Both his kidneys had failed. It was my mother’s sheer grit that he pulled through for 2 years from there on. He was in a pretty sad condition but what kept him going at that stage of health was the fact that he had gotten an offer to do a TV soap for one of the good theatre groups of that time. Sometimes, this sets me thinking…why did he not get this opportunity when he was full of verve and energy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He died at the age of 58, on the way to the hospital!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He always wanted a life where he would not worry of any domestic issues, monetary challenges, siblings' problems, children’s future…he wanted to reach the pinnacle of his career as the CEO of a decent-sized firm (he quit at 56 when he was the Senior VP)…he always wanted to be a professional theatre person…he wanted to play with his grand-children….he wanted to drop them at school, pick them up, help them with their homework, teach them all the prayers that he knew! In a nutshell, he wanted a successful career and a peaceful retired life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why did God choose to give him everything partially? We, at home, know for the fact that he did not deserve to die that young and incomplete! Can we complain?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-7035442791374995779?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/7035442791374995779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=7035442791374995779' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7035442791374995779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7035442791374995779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/09/unfulfilled-dreams-of-common-man_03.html' title='Unfulfilled dreams of a common man…'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-500193154552971720</id><published>2009-02-10T15:06:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-10T15:13:04.960+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><title type='text'>Ask (stupid) questions!</title><content type='html'>I remember being hushed in classes ever since my IV or V grades for asking questions that are ‘silly’. I have not stopped asking questions though. I had (and still have) this problem of asking whatever questions that come to my mind when a particular subject is being discussed. Many have advised me not to exploit my ignorance in public. But with every question’s answer sought, doesn’t that ignorance die away that moment? I have never felt shy of being ridiculed for my silly queries. I can’t remember admonishing my stupidity even once after asking a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are also funny questions that I ask for which I really got teased by my friends and family. For example, in a textile store, to the salesman, many times I ask while purchasing clothes, “Will this cloth long last?” or “Will the color bleed out of the cloth?”. My hubby used to cross-question me once outside the shop, “What did you expect the salesman to tell you? Yes Ma’m, this cloth is the most horrible one you could select. It will tear the moment you bill. It will look bleached just after your first-wear and wash?” For which, though I would secretively laugh (but not feel embarrassed) at myself, I would quickly cover that up and say with a serious, straight face, “You see, when we ask such questions, the sales guy would know that I cannot be fooled. He will think that he has an alert customer to handle”, showing that proud grin but looking away from my hubby’s eyes, for I am sure that he would give such a sarcastic and a strong look which will discourage me from asking any questions in life to anybody after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the main topic of discussion… in India (I can’t talk about other countries as much), right from one’s childhood, we are mocked for asking questions either because they are considered as not good manners or because the questions are silly. This kind of upbringing leaves Indians silent for most part of any transaction or conversation. I would attribute this particular way of bringing up and ridiculing people for silly queries as the main cause for many amidst us who fear to talk openly to the customer, ask questions or seek clarifications in any part of the engagement, remain stoic when it comes to any of the wrong doings of any one (starting from the neighbor to the guy on the road to the Government of India). If we are given the right for freedom of speech as per our constitution, does that not include, right for freedom of asking questions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I for one, encourage my teams and my children (as many as comes to their little minds) to ask questions. Not that I am able to answer all (or even most of their questions). But at least they would shed their shyness and not get into a shell and will not stay ignorant for the rest of their lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-500193154552971720?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/500193154552971720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=500193154552971720' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/500193154552971720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/500193154552971720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/02/ask-stupid-questions.html' title='Ask (stupid) questions!'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-5692528473535267245</id><published>2009-02-05T11:27:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-05T11:28:35.912+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>Mothers' second innings</title><content type='html'>As far as my observation goes, usually in middle-class families if the mother is educated, whether she was a star at school or a cipher, she ends up doing her education all over again along with her child. The number of times she goes through the education system is directly proportional to the number of “not-so-good-academically” kids that she bears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own experience, I have been an above-average student at school. I have however, teased my brethren who could not perform as much as I could those days. Now I repent. You know, this is Kaliyuga. What you sow is what you will reap. I have a challenge now to handle. These were the thoughts that crossed my mind when my child did not show much academic inclination. Only to later discover, that whether one has mocked others for bad performance in studies or not, every mother who is educated, will have to go through this trauma of educating her children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mothers who do not go to work and those who are ‘smart’ have it easy. They can meet the teacher fraternity post school hours, do some apple-polishing, get the syllabus much ahead of time, stay in tune with whatever happened in school. Whereas these poor working mothers… they end up remotely managing the child after their school hours. By the time they reach home in the evenings after work, all the time is gone. End of the day, when the child is also as worn out as the mother, what could be the productivity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has to keep track of her children’s exams, timetable, schedules of other activities and everything else under the sky for her children. If she does not do all these, guilt will kill her live and early. Though it is believed that children of working mothers are far more independent, that is turning out to be a myth. Mothers’ guilt pampers the children so much that these children get the best of all the worlds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, many times I have come across working mothers discussing what their next exam is and when? I overheard one mother ask another, “Did your son have his Social Studies Cycle Test this week?”. For which the other mother said, “No, no. That is only next week. This week we studied Science. All about ‘Metals and non-Metals’ and ‘How Living Things work’ ”. She sported that proud grin on her face. “How is your daughter in studies now?” questions the second one. The first one replies, “She has improved but still a long way to go…” with that sad expression on her face as though the whole world is sinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are not only lunch time conversations. We can hear these ramblings and ‘healthy’ transactions in every place where more than one mother meets the rest of her breed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again on keen observation the following facts come to light:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)      Fathers of these kids are all ‘angry’ men. If they are asked to handle these kids on their homework or exams, all hell breaks loose. The poor child gets beaten up and the father (if he is above 30) gets a BP rise! Damage control costs more for the mother now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)      Most of these kids are boys. Usually, looks like girls are far more organized. Again there are exceptions everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)      Mothers expect their children to be “the best” in their class. So if he/she is a B grader, the expectation is clear…he/she should aim for an O+…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)      Last but not the least, the child in question never seems to realize or worry about why this entire struggle. With that innocent and captivating expression that only they can bring on their faces the apologies they ask for non-performance can melt any steel heart. What can mothers do but melt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a mother of one such child, sometimes sets me thinking, is all this trouble worth its salt?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-5692528473535267245?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/5692528473535267245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=5692528473535267245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5692528473535267245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5692528473535267245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/02/mothers-second-innings.html' title='Mothers&apos; second innings'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-3156754350512743259</id><published>2009-02-04T11:58:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T11:59:52.096+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>Pranay - the life of our house...</title><content type='html'>After 10 years of having my first blessing in the form of a darling son, we were blessed for the second time with a son! We all were let down for a while about the fact that it was not a girl child which we really pined for. Then we came to terms and started focusing on this baby. We had not thought of a name for a boy. So, after searching the net and rounds and rounds of discussions (as though we were naming some important Government Operation), we finally liked and landed on the name 'Pranay' which means 'Love'. And lovable, he is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, the whole house revolves around this little soul...the way he is growing by the hour is just amazing. He is a darling for his "most-pampered-until-he-arrived" big brother. It is so nice to see the brothers cuddle, fight or play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until 5 months, he was such a dumb thing just coo-cooing and babbling. From his sixth month, his vocabulary and his actions and activities have taken a phenomenal leap. He talks and comprehends Mallu and Tamil. He communicates everything that happens around. He is just about 2 years now and he can converse so fluently and explain the happenings in his day. He takes us by total surprise when he shoots out the most apt word or phrase for the event that is unfolding in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so naughty that we had to pack up every possible thing that is on his reach in the house and keep it in the loft. I sometimes comment saying, "only left overs on the floor would be us!"&lt;br /&gt;He sings almost all the recent filmi hits in Hindi, Mallu and Tamil, about 20 nursery rhymes and all the old Tamil numbers which I (try to) sing to put him to sleep. In fact, he recognizes personalities just after one introduction. He knows almost the entire male stars of the Mallu filmdom; Vijay, Surya are his Tamil bests; he identifies SRK and Aamir Khan; he also jumps when he sees the latest hero - Obama on screen/paper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he plays pranks and we try to give him a time-out, he tells us in turn to continue with our work whatever we are doing at that moment. That too, with a serious face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we shout at his elder brother for not studying, we are done! He quickly comes to his rescue. He also advises his elder brother politely by hugging him, "Abhi, paddi da, Abhi!" (meaning study well). That is a heart-rending scene to watch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, girl or boy, any baby is such a gift of the Almighty!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-3156754350512743259?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/3156754350512743259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=3156754350512743259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3156754350512743259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3156754350512743259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/02/pranay-life-of-our-house.html' title='Pranay - the life of our house...'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-1632553924812961442</id><published>2009-01-29T12:14:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:00:14.192+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>2 dozen maids and still going strong…</title><content type='html'>I had (and still have) my own selfish reasons for not settling in any other part of the world. Not that I had a red carpet in any country, but just chose not to move out of India. Call it comfort zone or whatever! My knowledge is limited and am not sure if any other part of the world would have so much support at the domestic front for lazy bones like me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a laundry guy who comes to collect our washed clothes, there is a milk-supplier who drops the sachets early in morning (or evening as the case may be), then there are drivers/chauffeurs, we have a guy who flings the newspapers/magazines at our door step every morning, gardeners, plumbers, carpenters, electricians, then you have the veggie vendors, some essential goods’ suppliers and a whole host of services offered at our very door step. And, all these services at throw-away prices!!! For those whiners amidst you, who complain about India, think of all this luxury…which other world can provide you all this and much more? ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While all other services are luxury, having a maid or two at home to help you with domestic chores has become a must these days. I do not want to blame our job patterns and hence our busy schedules for the growing demand of maids. This is because, I have also observed maids being employed at houses where the lady (or the man) of the house is unemployed! The reason may be (as I try to figure it out), we have more than what we need, in every aspect of life. That’s ok! What else are we slogging for? Right?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have digressed so much from the core of the issue that I set to address in this post. Maids! Yeah…Maids!! No, no. Please do not think that this is some kind of a tribute to the maids of the world. It would rather be the other way round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maids have become such an important part of almost all house-holds - whether the families are big or small, whether there are bachelors or spinsters staying with friends or alone. You name it and the house would employ at least one maid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a challenge could these human-beings become in our otherwise routine, mundane lifestyles! In my over a decade and above married life, we would have employed about 2 dozen or more (I lost count) maids so far. “Why so many?”, you may wonder. The rest of this post will give you the answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one employee-employer relationship where the employer is at risk all the time! Job opportunities are plenty for these ‘skilled’ employees, so we better handle with care. In fact, the rate at which we change maids at home, I have my nephew asking me, “How long will this ‘avatar’ last?” (Obviously referring to the new maid as the ‘avatar’). We, at home have this unique problem of seeing only the positives only in the first two days of employment. The third day morning either my MIL or my SIL or my FIL or one other member of the family would start whining and lamenting about the new arrival’s tantrums. If all are happy, I start smelling something ‘fishy’!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clichéd phrase “more the merrier” fails miserably when you try to employ more than one thinking it is any kind of risk mitigation. Caution - it will only work the other way around.&lt;br /&gt;As a matter of fact, I am so experienced in this subject now that I can write a book on “How to select, train, engage, retain/sack maids?” (For the dummies of course!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maids come in all size, shapes, behaviors, characteristics…some cannot come early in the morning and some cannot come in the evenings…some cannot stay for a whole 5 hour routine while some others cannot leave our house at all…some understand every word of what we speak and try to trouble us with their over-smartness…some do not understand even the most basic of instructions…some want the TV to be turned on (preferably dish channels) as they are working…some want only music to be on (some FM channel)…some want to make calls to their ‘near-and-dear’ from our land lines and some carry a mobile of their own (look at the technology reach!)….some don’t stop talking and some don’t answer any questions asked…some will eat food made at our house but only fresh and hot and some others would not want to even smell the food we make…some come dressed like they were contesting fashion shows, putting our dressing sense to shame while some others make us wonder if they know anything at all about personal hygiene and cleanliness…some also go that extra mile of giving us news on the neighborhood and rest assured your stories are also broadcast in other houses…this list is endless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My,oh,my! Why does God not create the perfect maids for each of us who would want to employ one (or two, may be!)??? Is that asking for too much? God knows…oops…sorry…Maids know…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-1632553924812961442?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/1632553924812961442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=1632553924812961442' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1632553924812961442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1632553924812961442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/01/2-dozen-maids-and-still-going-strong.html' title='2 dozen maids and still going strong…'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-7161242040310457400</id><published>2009-01-08T12:50:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:00:35.404+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>அனுராதா ரமணணுடன் ஒரு நாள்...</title><content type='html'>விப்ரோ நிறுவனம் சேர்ந்து ஒன்றரை மாதங்கள் நகர்ந்து விட்டன. அன்று 20th Feb. நரஸி என்று ஒரு விப்ரோ நண்பர் என்னை போன்ல கூப்பிட்டார். இன்னும் ப்ரொஜெக்ட் தொடங்காதபடியால் பயங்கர free ஆக இருந்தேன். நரஸி எடுத்தவுடன், "GD, நாம Pen &amp;amp; Paper Club ன்னு ஒண்ணு ஆரம்பிக்கப்போறோம். எழுதறவங்கள ஊகுவிக்க. அதுக்காக நாளைக்கு ஒரு inauguration. Chief Guest ஆ எழுத்தாளர் திருமதி. அனுராதா ரமணண் மேடமை கூப்பிட்டு இருக்கோம்.அவங்களை அவங்க வீட்லேர்ந்து கூட்டிகிட்டு வரணும். முதல்ல நம்ம ஷங்கர் தான் போறதா இருந்தார். ஆன திடீர்னு அவருக்கு எதோ அவசர வேல வந்திடுச்சு. அதனால உங்கள request பண்ணிக்கலாம்னு..." நரஸி இன்னும் வாக்கியத்த முழுசா முடிக்கவே இல்ல அதுக்குள்ள நான், "என்ன நரஸி இது? கரும்பு தின்ன கூலியா? நான் எதுக்கு இருக்கேன்? Just leave it to me, I say!" நரஸிக்கு சந்தோஷம். என்னக்கோ அதுல double!!!&lt;br /&gt;மேடம்மைப்பத்தி நெறைய கேள்விப்பட்டிருக்கேன். அவரோட சில சிறுகதைகளை ரசித்துப்படிசிருக்கேன். என்னுடைய "மிக உயர்ந்தவர்கள்" பட்டியலில் அவரும் ஒருவர். அவரோட பாதி நாள் இருக்கணும்! Wow! What a life-time opportunity!!&lt;br /&gt;மதியம் 3 மணிக்கு மேடம்மை phone ல கூப்பிட்டேன். என்னை அறிமுகப்படுத்திகிட்டு, வீட்டுக்கு வழி எல்லாம் கேட்டு வெச்சுக்கிட்டேன். Needless to say, I was excited!&lt;br /&gt;21st Feb:&lt;br /&gt;காலைல எழுந்திருக்கும் போதே ஒரு விறுவிறுப்பு...என்னிக்கும் இல்லாத ஒரு சுறுசுறுப்பு. Correct ஆ 9:10க்கு நான் மேடம் வீட்டு வாசல்ல! (9:00 மணிக்கு தான் வரேன்னு சொல்லி இருந்தேன்...பாழாய்ப்போன traffic க்கு என்னோட பதட்டம் புரியலேயே! சே!!). மேடம் sofa ல உட்கார்ந்து இருந்தாங்க. She looked dazzling!&lt;br /&gt;நேரா போய் முதல்ல அவங்க காலத்தொட்டு கண்ணுல ஒத்திக்கிட்டேன் (Actualலா அவங்க கையைத்தான் முதல்ல கண்ணுல ஒத்திக்கிட்டு இருக்கணும்). மேடம் coffee குடிக்கிறியான்னு கேட்டாங்க. As such, நான் ஒரு coffee பைத்தியம். அதுல, மேடம் வீட்டில, அவங்க கையால coffee ன்னா, கேக்கணுமா? வேண்டாம்ணு சொல்லத்தோணல. ஒரு கப் coffee குடுச்சிட்டு, நாங்க office க்கு கெளம்பினோம். வழில போகும்போது அவரோட படைப்புகளைப்பற்றியும், வாழ்க்கையைப்பற்றியும் நிறைய ஆவலோடு கேட்டுக்கிட்டே வந்தேன். என் குடும்பம், வாழ்க்கையைப்பற்றியும், மேடமும் பொறுமையொடு கேட்டுகிட்டே வந்தாங்க. இப்போ அதே traffic ஐ வாழ்த்தினேன். ஆனா, அரை மணி நேரம், அரை நொடியாப்போச்சு!&lt;br /&gt;Office ல படி ஏறும்போது, என் கையைப்பிடிச்சிக்கிட்டு மேடம் ஏறினாங்க. பல ஆயிரம் இதயங்களை தன் எழுத்தால கவர்ந்த அந்தக்கை, இதோ, மெத்துன்னு, என் கைக்குள்ள, அடக்கமா! God! I am gifted!!&lt;br /&gt;Function ரொம்ப நல்லா நடந்தது. மறுபடியும் மேடம்மை வீட்டுல கொண்டுப்போய்விட்டேன். நமஸ்காரம் செஞ்சேன்.குங்குமம் கொடுதாங்க. மேடம் எழுதின 3 முத்தான புத்தக பொக்கிஷங்களை, அவங்க கையெழுத்துப்போட்டுக் கொடுத்தாங்க. Office ல நரஸிக்கிட்ட இத சொன்னபோது, அவர் உடனே, "பரவாயில்லியே! கரும்பு தின்ன கூலியும் கிடச்சிடுச்சே, உங்களுக்கு!" அப்படின்னார்.&lt;br /&gt;வாழ்க்கைல எத்தனையோ மனிதர்களை பார்க்கிறோம், ரசிக்கிறோம். பல சம்பவங்கள் இனிமையா நம்ம மனசில பதியுது. அப்பிடிப்பட்ட ஒரு 'பெரிய' மனுஷிய பார்த்து, ரசித்த இனிமையான சம்பவமா இது என் வாழ்க்கைல இருக்கும். மறக்கமுடியாது!&lt;br /&gt;அனுராதா ரமணணிடமிருந்து அந்த அரை நாளில் நான் கற்றது:&lt;br /&gt;1) வாழ்க்கைல எவ்வளவு உயரப்போனாலும், எளிமையா இருக்கணும், இனிமையா பழகணும். "நிறை குடம் தளும்பாது" அப்படிங்கறதுக்கு மேடம் ஒரு எடுத்துக்காட்டு.&lt;br /&gt;2) அவருக்கு எத்தனையோ உடல் உபாதைகள். ஆனாலும் அந்த மாறாத புன்சிரிப்பு. "துன்பம் வரும் வேளையிலே சிரிங்க" என்று சொல்வதுப்போல்.&lt;br /&gt;3) மேடம்மோட ரசிப்புத்திறன். கூர்மையான கவனம். எல்லா படைப்பாளிகளுக்கும் தேவையான குணாதிசையங்கள்.&lt;br /&gt;உயரப்பறந்தாலும், எளிமையா வாழ்ந்து, துன்பம் வந்தாலும் வராவிட்டாலும் எல்லா ஏற்றத்தாழ்வுகளையும் ஒரேப்போல ரசிக்கும் திறன், நம்மாலும் முடியுமா? தெரியலை! முயற்சி பண்ணலாம்...தப்பில்ல!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-7161242040310457400?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/7161242040310457400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=7161242040310457400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7161242040310457400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7161242040310457400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title='அனுராதா ரமணணுடன் ஒரு நாள்...'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-4428590204033106634</id><published>2009-01-06T15:31:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-06T15:32:29.493+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><title type='text'>And the best manager award goes to....</title><content type='html'>"Mother"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother - The Best Manager…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you seen or observed a mother handling a house-hold? Not only in these recent years where most mothers are also ‘working’ in offices/schools but ever since time unknown. In fact most management principles would have cropped up from observing such mothers. We would have heard this concept so many times. But I thought I should give it my share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are the basic expectations of a good manager? Some of my friends tease me for using an oxy-moron here. But I beg to differ! There are of course very good managers on this earth. Coming back to the point…so what makes a manager good? Efficient planning, Proper scheduling, Foreseeing risks, Preparing workable mitigation plans for those risks, being pragmatic in approach and style, quick decision-making and owning up the decisions made, gluing the team that works under him, understanding each team member’s strengths and weaknesses and playing to that, rewarding them in public and reprimanding in private, understanding business needs, realizing the operating margin at the targeted level, keeping the customers happy, the management proud and the teams wanting and deserved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let us see how many of these qualities we can naturally derive from most of our mothers (working or unemployed, educated or uneducated). First, she is the undoubted Finance Minister in the house. She carefully plans for the budget of the family, keeping the income in mind. For turbulent times she also sets apart an amount in reserves.  In this context, she has to collectively work with her husband to make the savings and mitigate any cash-crunches for the family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only for the future that will come in years/months, she deftly plans every day. Her chores are pretty mundane in one sense but the challenge is to handle the curves that life throws at her at the dawn of every day. When does this girl, who was until marriage and child-birth was only a playful lass, mature into a “woman”? Is it when she has to be managing her own household or is it when she mothers her first kid? This multi-tasking ability of a woman which really gets showcased especially only after she has her own family seems like an innate thing in every woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her sense of planning/scheduling the day is just amazing. She knows what she has to prepare in the kitchen and makes all prior arrangements. Once done, she immediately starts attending to the other cleaning/washing activities.  Even working mothers will have to do all this either by themselves or with the help of a domestic servant. The onus on the woman is much more in these cases as she has to make sure work is done on time and in the right way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever there is a rift/tension in the family, whether it is a joint family or a nuclear one, she acts as an ambassador and makes every effort to ensure that the family gets back to its harmonious state again. She has to be the glue in the family binding the members together.&lt;br /&gt;In times of depression and despair, she ends up deciding for the family. She acts as the captain of a ship and steers the family with so much will and grit. This unique ability of women sometimes makes one wonder if she is really a weaker sex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the in-laws can be called customers, she listens to their needs and caters to them. So also, she makes her “management” proud by bringing them good-will and great reputation. Here parents of the woman could be compared to the “management”. And finally, the team, including her husband, is her family! Of course, it is for them that she performs these superb feats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it now wrong to say that mothers are indeed the best of managers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-4428590204033106634?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/4428590204033106634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=4428590204033106634' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/4428590204033106634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/4428590204033106634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-best-manager-award-goes-to.html' title='And the best manager award goes to....'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-3738250078946264235</id><published>2009-01-05T16:45:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-05T16:46:07.326+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><title type='text'>‘Technical’ or ‘Technological’?</title><content type='html'>How ‘technical’ are you? Or, are you ‘technological’?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dictionary meaning of ‘technical’ plainly means ‘technological’, ‘procedural’ and some more similar words are enlisted. When I was a developer, I used to be asked, “Are you technical?” What I assumed it meant was “Are you hands-on in any technology?” I would answer in the affirmative. Days passed by. I eventually became a manager. Again, when I was asked if I was technical, don’t know why but I am confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does being technical mean:&lt;br /&gt;a)      Knowing/understanding/comprehending technology?&lt;br /&gt;b)      Hands-on in a particular or many such technologies?&lt;br /&gt;c)       In one’s line of specialization (Project Management), being technical? As in, knowing the nuances of Project Management and applying the same in projects effectively?&lt;br /&gt;d)      Process-driven?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it means (a) or (b) above, then does it mean Managers/Quality Personnel are not technical? In which case other professionals like a carpenter, architect, designer or a plumber, not ‘technical’ in his/her line of specialization?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I am coming from is – the moment I say, “I am not technical any longer” (what I mean is I don’t work hands-on with technology any more), I am given a sheepish look by some and some look at me in awe! Is this something to be ridiculed at?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How easy or difficult is it for a Manager to stay in touch (I mean hands-on) with technology? Is it really required? Or is it sufficient if one can comprehend technology and relate to the customer’s line of business and apply his ‘technical’ concepts on the job?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this ‘technical’ business only in IT? Or, do other fields face the same criticism?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-3738250078946264235?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/3738250078946264235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=3738250078946264235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3738250078946264235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3738250078946264235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/01/technical-or-technological.html' title='‘Technical’ or ‘Technological’?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-5736612099223946328</id><published>2009-01-02T16:20:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:01:06.175+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>Bees saal baad @ home - scaring the hell out of my brother…</title><content type='html'>My brother now works in a reputed major bank as a Chief Manager. He has his own sweet family. But still, if ever we get time alone, and I ask him to venture in the dark with me (even if it is the next bed room or living), he immediately warns me, “Is it ok if I hit you at this age?” I know why he asks me that question. He is yet to come out of all the ‘shocks’ that I have given him all through our childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is just about 2 years younger than me. Ever since my memory can trace back, there have been umpteen episodes where I have given him a chill down his spine. So much so that, many times he has gone to the floor unconscious. Some episodes I laughed hysterically looking at his bleached expressions and some other, I was very scared that I would be in jail the next day for homicide L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did that make me drop the habit of scaring him? No! Never!! I am not the one to give up!!! :-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of episodes that I recall…one funny and the other naively-committed crime…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I was in class VIII and he in class VI. By then he had had his “sacred thread” across his chest. And he being an ardent believer of the concept that the sacred thread would ward-off any evil, daringly set out to go with me to buy some tidbits from the nearby shop at 8:30 in the evening. 20 years back, 8:30 was pretty ‘late’ in the night for Chennai standards. We merrily hopped to the shop, bought the goodies and were tracing back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this particular spot on the way which has this electricity box installed. There was a tree opposite this box on the other side of the road. The lighting in that area was such that the shadow of this tree falls exactly on this box and makes only the skull (the danger sign) visible to us. The rest of the box is shadowed by the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was exactly in this spot, that I stopped and started walking very slowly. This little brother of mine innocently thought that something was wrong with me and he stopped too. He turned to see what had happened to me. I kind of gave a frozen look. He came near. He asked me what happened. I stared deeply at him and started grinning showing all my teeth. I tilted my head to my left and turned it to the right facing the skull on the electricity box. He was almost frozen to death! He looked at the box only then and immediately clung on to his “brahma mudichu” in the “sacred thread”. He started chanting the “Gayathri Manthra” and ran towards home. My laugh was so hysterical and loud and that made him tremble much more. He would have beaten all records in running that evening. I could actually see his heels hit his thigh! J From then on, until we started working, the boy never ventured out with me late in the evenings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of other episodes that rush my mind as I write this. I will share one more here. Just around the same age, my parents had left us home and were off to attend a wedding reception. My granny, elder sister, my brother and I were watching some Tamil crime thriller. I was getting restless with the movie and hence decided to do something else, worth-while(?). I had long, thick, black, shining hair which I had washed that day and hence had left it open. I tried chewing paan and that had left my mouth red. I was admiring myself in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie was reaching its climax and I hated the fact that my brother was so glued to it without playing with me. I thought to myself, “So what? I will play with him even when he is watching the movie”. I should say that was an innocent thought. I kept dancing in front of the mirror with my tongue stuck out and hair open. As the movie’s climax was getting my brother to the edge of his seat, I stood by his side and just put my head in front of his face. My red tongue sticking out, my hair giving my face a black perfect background and blinding my brother from anything else in front of him! It was just a perfect scene!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my horror, my brother just stopped breathing and stretched his legs out. He lay there like a stick motionless. Before I realized what I had done, my sister struck me like thunder from behind. She quickly sprinkled water on his face, chanted some manthras and put some holy ashes on his forehead. She gave him some water to drink. Slowly he regained consciousness. I was and still am happy to see him alive!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not once or twice but at least a hundred odd times, before I finished class XII, I would have done this act of scaring him. In fact I had stopped in between when I heard that some kid down-south died of an attack because of such pranks. But life was no fun without these episodes! So I was kind of milder with him making sure he does not have any attacks, really! One ‘baah’ and another ‘booh’ at unexpected corners/circumstances gave me enough thrills to keep me going. I am sure he would have been the first at home to get relieved of me, when I joined a residential college post XII! And, I still yearn for those days with my brother…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-5736612099223946328?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/5736612099223946328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=5736612099223946328' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5736612099223946328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5736612099223946328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2009/01/bees-saal-baad-home-scaring-hell-out-of.html' title='Bees saal baad @ home - scaring the hell out of my brother…'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-660619669640240662</id><published>2008-10-22T14:02:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:01:38.464+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>Lachu Paati - The 'Super' Woman!</title><content type='html'>Have you heard of an 88 year old lady watching 20-20 with all enthusiasm amidst the soaps that keep running on the other channels? Have you come across such an old person trying to ‘make’ herself ‘up’ before someone comes home or she is to visit someone? Have you noticed any one at this stage wanting to sing all the songs that she has learnt from her childhood (including some nursery rhymes – King Kapeech Va, “Home they brought her warrior dead” by Alfred Tennyson)? Have you seen such an old woman wanting to learn computers (games – not how to play but how to code!), dividends, debentures, share markets, forensic science and what not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the world of this ‘Super Woman’ – my very own granny who we fondly call “Lachu Paati”. She is such a bundle of energy. She has to wake up at 6 (latest) in the morning and have a hot cuppa coffee just after she brushes. If it is not served, she knows to meander her way into the kitchen and make it herself. Just that she would leave her footprint by spilling sugar or pouring some of the milk down or may be just forgetting to turn off the burner! If pointed out, she would say “you could fix it, can’t you?”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then her bathing routine; she does not trust any of us washing her 9-yards saree. She hand-washes them herself, wears a spotless white blouse with it, has her hair neatly combed with some coconut oil applied regularly to that short, grayish-white, curly tress, which she makes a small bun of; then, applies the talcum powder to her face and believes in keeping herself presentable all the while! That is something none of her 10 grand children picked up!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still helps the household by plaiting our long hair, cleaning the pooja, cutting vegetables and taking care of herself. She sticks to her routine and does not like anyone tampering with it. The problem is she wants all of us to follow a routine as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has studied till VII grade. She helps the smaller grand-children by teaching them Tamil &amp;amp; Math. But again the challenge is in keeping her away from doing their homework. She is so fast that she cannot wait for us to complete anything. She is hyper-active, to say the least! She would grab the pen/pencil from us and our notebook, do the math quickly and tell us “you would have still not completed it, left to yourself!” We feel good about the work being done but just that we would not have the courage to face our parents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is such a curious person. When some one calls over the phone, we curse Grahambell so much for this invention of his! She would nag us so much to get to know who has called, for what purpose, what are they saying, from where are they calling…the list of questions is endless. She would not even wait until we put the phone down. She wants ‘real’-time updates (as and when we speak).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once she asked me to explain how the gaming software “Prince” was coded! OMG!! She troubled me so much with so many questions that I found it difficult to answer. And finally, she said, “Don’t call yourself an engineer. You fit for nothing!” I wish she would go onsite as a consultant for one of the critical engagements J I am sure the customer would scoot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my brother was trying hard to understand the basics in accounting sitting with my Company Secretary father, she stopped by for a while and asked “Kanna (my father’s name), how is debenture different from dividend?” My brother felt so inferior in comparison to her knowledge levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before she picks up any topic on the criminal novels that she reads, we try to vanish into thin air simply because she would chase us with a quiver full of questions on “Forensic science”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And an all time favourite question of hers for us is when she was intently watching a cricket match and asked my brother “Enda, Kumble vera, Kambli veraiya?” (meaning are Kumble and Kambli 2 different people).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God save us from this sweet but nagging devil! We love her thirst for knowledge even at this stage and the way she carries herself! You are great, Paati!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-660619669640240662?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/660619669640240662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=660619669640240662' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/660619669640240662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/660619669640240662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/10/lachu-paati-super-woman.html' title='Lachu Paati - The &apos;Super&apos; Woman!'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-4129767828395145709</id><published>2008-10-09T13:08:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-09T13:27:55.618+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>Japanese Hospitality</title><content type='html'>Have any of you been through “Japanese hospitality”? And that too, in India? Those were the days when US was considered not just an ‘on-site’ but as an almost ‘out-of-reach’ for many. I had in all about 3 years work experience. I was nominated as a “Lead” for a Japanese project. Then, in those days (about a decade back), Japan was also considered a cool, on-site! I was excited to be the lead and I would only call myself a ‘Project Coordinator’ for the fear of losing my peers’ friendship!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The project involved translating a particular MRP software from Japanese to English. The systems were not on any network. We had to “laplink” data from one machine to another. It was grueling, to say the least. We had to translate some 500 odd forms to English with the help of some Japanese translators who worked round the clock with us, the technical team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last stage of wrapping up and the client was here in India to see the close of the project. Her name was ‘Makato Miyachi’, a Filipino. She looked like a doll and used to be clad in business formals (skirt). She looked very smart. In those days, the craving to get noticed by or talk to ‘fair-skinned’ people was more! :-D I was introduced to her as the ‘Lead’. My pride knew no bounds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gifted me with a box carefully wrapped in silver color paper. All my peers were gazing at me and were all green! I took the box and secretively hid it with my belongings. Evening, I left early that day. I took this box home with all the pride in my face as though I have won the Oscars! I did not let my siblings touch it. After my Pa came from work, I showed this to him and started unwrapping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a chocolate-brown box full of…Japanese biscuits! They looked yummy!! But being the strict orthodox veggies at home, my father frowned and left it to us! May be he expected some thing else inside? May be not any eatable?? Anyway, I was busy inspecting which one to taste first. Since it was ‘mine’, I said I had the rights to taste this first. Then, I took one biscuit and put it in my mouth. My face went pale. It is ok to have tasteless stuff but how do people manage to eat this raw-smelling/tasting thing and call it a biscuit! I was so disappointed about the ‘foreign’ biscuit. My brother was smart. Seeing my reaction, he said, “after all you have worked for it, please have this for all 3 courses of the days to come”. I then gracefully said that I must share it with my team mates as they all have slogged it with me! And, I closed the box!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I called upon my peers to have this. Though they all teased me for taking it home the previous day, no one denied taking the biscuits. But the first bite, each one went back to their places :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then our Makato Miyachi asked me how I liked the biscuits. I had to say they were “out of the world” though I wanted to say “out of the window”. Then she offered me the same biscuits during tea. I refused saying she has given me enough. :-( She would not listen. She forced it in my hand. I pretended to eat that junk and dropped it on the floor (as though by mistake) and said “Oh God! I dropped it”. She immediately said, “Do not worry! I have enough. Here, please take a few more!” I admired her hospitality but for heaven's sake she could have spared me...if only I could have run away, I would have done that. I almost cried as I ate the second one and my whole team was standing around the cubicle, peeking at me and giggling!! :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that day on, I started referring to Makato Miyachi as “makku dhan Meenatchi” (meaning Meenakshi is dumb). :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t ask me what happened to the project… it is better left unsaid….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only we had these cross-cultural trainings then, I would have done better with this customer. Huh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-4129767828395145709?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/4129767828395145709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=4129767828395145709' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/4129767828395145709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/4129767828395145709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/10/japanese-hospitality.html' title='Japanese Hospitality'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-8016968466413775932</id><published>2008-08-29T17:47:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-29T17:47:41.084+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>Theatre accident</title><content type='html'>Yet another college episode…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theatre accidents are common during rehearsals…but what would happen if the accident happens as the play is going on and live audience watching (rather hearing) it?? Read on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a Tamil play for 2.5 hrs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story was about how a guy goes behind wealth and ditches the girl he eloped with. The girl is helpless and finally finds refuge with one of the neighborhood sincere fella with the help of her ex-boyfriend’s friend! We were well-rehearsed and pretty professional by any amateur standards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stage used to be made by us, students. The raw stage would have partitions displaying a rich house on one side and the other side had an elevation to show a middle-class house with the ground floor occupied by the owner (ex-boyfriend’s friend) and the elevated first floor by the tenant (neighborhood sincere fella).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stage was beautifully set up. The elevation was given by placing cots on top of each other. We had given a 5 cot level elevation. The height would measure up to some 15 feet above stage level!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Climax…the owner of the house (ex-boyfriend’s friend) to help this ditched, desolate girl tries to convince his sincere, single tenant guy to give her life by marrying her. My friend and co-actor, Dhaaru, did an exemplary job of displaying an array of emotions in convincing the other actor, KG. Once done, he was supposed to come down running, to let me (I was the lady-cast) know that his tenant has agreed to marry me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The staircase runs behind the stage from the elevation, to the stage level. I was expecting Dhaaru next to me anytime and was all set to display an emotional outbreak. But all I heard was (and the audience too!) a huge ‘THUD’ sound! Dhaaru had fallen from the 15 feet level!. Instead of climbing down the stairs he had landed straight on the stage behind the curtains!! I was so shocked &amp;amp; nervous but could not show that. The play had gone on well so far. I was hoping nothing untoward had happened! I could hear the audience whisper, “hey, Dhaaru has fallen off the elevation”…there was so much silence in the auditorium!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then appeared our fallen hero…panting, huffing, puffing, limping and leaping…to complete his dialogues! The play went on well till completion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the play, we heard him narrate what had happened. He said “Thankfully, my rotund body helped land safely!” What a sport!! And…thank God!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-8016968466413775932?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/8016968466413775932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=8016968466413775932' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/8016968466413775932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/8016968466413775932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/08/theatre-accident.html' title='Theatre accident'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-1380327362409543435</id><published>2008-06-06T16:55:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-06T16:57:37.161+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><title type='text'>Fairer sex in the board?</title><content type='html'>Cross-posted from my blogpost inside my company...&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Tamil Nadu SSLC results were announced today. Girls have topped across the state. Makes me think…when girls could top the ‘board’ why is that we have very negligible women population in our ‘board’ rooms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women are meticuluous, sincere, hard-working, great team makers, intelligent, tech-savvy, studious and what not?! What makes that population wear-off as they enter the work force?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the bottom of the pyramid, we have almost an equal ratio of men:women. Very soon, may be that would change and women would be more there than the men. As we go up the ladder, women fizzle out and then become almost invisible at the ‘board’? What skills do women lack to reach there? Can the system produce only one Indra Nooyi? only one Kiran Bedi? only one Chanda Kochar? one Barkha Dutt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the problem? The attitude of these women? Their families’ support? Society’s suppression? Men dominance? Where is the problem really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Research says that women make better managers and CxOs. They bring in so much harmony. They focus better on deals than the men. So where and why are we missing that smart lot in the board rooms?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-1380327362409543435?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/1380327362409543435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=1380327362409543435' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1380327362409543435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1380327362409543435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/06/fairer-sex-in-board.html' title='Fairer sex in the board?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-7570174339807447306</id><published>2008-06-06T16:50:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-06T16:53:53.677+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>Nothing is impossible! But…Calculus?!</title><content type='html'>Most of us would have dealt with this dreary subject called ‘Calculus’. We at college did so too! In life, one can fight only against one’s equal oppositions. You should not fight if you are stronger than the opposition. And…you should not try fighting if you know your opposition is stronger. This is my understanding of the ‘Uddha Dharma’. Yet, for me, Calculus was stronger and I was forced to fight itL. No Dharma could work here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened in my college again. Though we had this subject as part of our 11th and 12th classes, the choice system helped me escape this subject. Ignorance was bliss only until 12th class. The very first semester, Calculus was one full fledged course for us in college! Readers can imagine my plight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even before I could understand the system of cycle tests and comprehensive examinations, surprise quizzes and the grading that followed, I was into a maze…totally lost! The first ‘surprise’ quiz in Calculus was such a ‘surprise’ to me (and some of my other class mates). The biggest surprise was yet to come! The quiz had negative marking. I was in oblivion and did not bother to know any of these. I attempted ALL the questions with such sincerity. When the marks came by, it beat all records in my college. It was -2 on 10!!!! I was for the very first time (and until now the last) negatively marked for my performance. L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as the semester went by I tried my best to crack at least one cycle test in Cal (that’s how we called it). But to my dismay, I could really not break through. It was time for our “Comprehensive” examinations. This was for 40 marks. Which means, we had already finished the 60 marks over the quizzes and tests over the semester. I knew what my mark(s) were (was?) on 60! Yet, I went to check the ‘pre-com’ scores on the notice board. There was a huge group of students that crowded around the notice board to check their scores. May be they found it difficult to sum up their scores in all the tests/quizzes in Cal., I wondered in awe! I should appreciate my guts. I was also there with them. One guy exclaimed, “Hey, look at this! Someone has scored just 1 on 60!!” I thanked my stars that names were not displayed on the NB. The marks were put up against our Student Ids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slowly traced my steps back and was filled with remorse. Now, if I did not roll up my sleeves and crack the final exam, I would have to do a summer term and clear this subject. I dreaded that thought. I put all my efforts (and my smart friends had to put twice that to drill the concepts into my dull-head) and prepared for the finals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As luck would have it, the climax was good and glorious! J I actually got emotional seeing my score… I had cleared the paper with a solid 10 marks on 40!!! I thanked the CGPA system. Had it been our usual system of grading &amp;amp; ranking…may be I would still be in college trying to clear the demon ‘Calculus’…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-7570174339807447306?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/7570174339807447306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=7570174339807447306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7570174339807447306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7570174339807447306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/06/nothing-is-impossible-butcalculus.html' title='Nothing is impossible! But…Calculus?!'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-1476039507926541272</id><published>2008-04-25T19:49:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:02:00.755+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><title type='text'>Parenting &amp; Management - any resemblance?</title><content type='html'>Should we treat our children like our team members OR should we treat our team members like our children? I have found that most times emotional approaches do work with both categories. They stay bonded with you for long even if they MUST leave the project/place that they share with you.&lt;br /&gt;Usually, we are asked not to spoon-feed kids and allow them to make mistakes and learn their own lessons. In the corporate world, we only have to make sure that we dont commit many costly mistakes. Everyone feels they have achieved only if they are given the freedom to experiment and show results.&lt;br /&gt;I used to tell my son that I had a mobile primarily because I wanted to hear him when he is back from school. I also found myself telling my team members, that when I am away, it is to hear their stories that I carry a mobile.&lt;br /&gt;I used to criticize my son in private lest he get insulted in front of all. Do we not apply this in management as well?&lt;br /&gt;Lavish approbation when he does something worth praising in public makes him feel so motivated and encouraged. Team members?…likewise!&lt;br /&gt;Ya. I know we do not have formal appraisals for our children but if we did, it would only open room for conversation and better understanding.&lt;br /&gt;In all, any human would only like to be treated that way. It does not matter if he/she is your child, peer, subordinate, neighbour, parent, brother, sister, et al!!! All that it takes is good managerial skills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-1476039507926541272?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/1476039507926541272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=1476039507926541272' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1476039507926541272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1476039507926541272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/04/parenting-management-any-resemblance.html' title='Parenting &amp; Management - any resemblance?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-7724569075923912012</id><published>2008-04-14T22:35:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-16T14:53:02.395+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>Are you Masculine or Feminine?</title><content type='html'>For a long time now, I have been thinking that I should patent this idea. Do share your views on whether the idea I am proposing is worth the trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A child is born on this earth as a Male or a Female. We, otherwise, say the baby’s gender is a ‘M’ or an ‘F’. The baby grows into a boy or a girl then becomes a man or a woman. Now, where does this topic of ‘masculinity’ or ‘feminity’ come into picture? Every human being has some qualities of the other gender. Some men possess more feminine qualities and some women, masculine. There is nothing right or wrong about this. It is only natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing to feel proud if a woman has masculine qualities and nothing to laugh about if a man behaves like a lady at times.But I have come across some women teasing other women if they are too ‘boyish’ or ‘masculine’. And vice versa…I strongly think we should stop this. What say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why I thought of patenting this idea may be a question on your minds. Recently, I attended a NASSCOM training for Women in IT. The trainers were talking about Masculine work and Feminine work in the context of Time Management. I thought I should at least let a few people know that I have thought in these lines already. Just in case this concept becomes popular, you would know that there was this soul which researched on this subject!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, what are you? Man or a woman? Masculine or Feminine? J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-7724569075923912012?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/7724569075923912012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=7724569075923912012' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7724569075923912012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7724569075923912012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/04/are-you-masculine-or-feminine.html' title='Are you Masculine or Feminine?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-3728359857905413968</id><published>2008-04-08T18:16:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T12:02:27.339+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>Who scared who?</title><content type='html'>This incident happened some 15 years back. I was in my college final semester. We were deputed for training in New Delhi for 6 months. My friends had taken up the out-house of an independent house on rent. Now in this house, they raised a ferocious dog for a pet! It always used to be tied up. But even then, as I enter the gate, the horrible, fearsome barking sound of this dog used to send chills down my spine.&lt;br /&gt;On this particular Sunday, after lunch, we 3 friends went back home. First, one of our friends, walked in opening the gate. I followed him with the confidence that the dog should be tied up as usual. Suddenly, I heard the barking sound and the pouncing beast almost on me! One can imagine my plight! I took to my heels shouting "someone....help me!!!"....it was a scream...a real, loud one...my whole body was shaking terribly in fear....I ran up to the friend who was walking in front of me, held him, shook him, turned him around and tried to hide behind him. I was screaming all through and shivering!! I had seen death in close circles…&lt;br /&gt;For a moment, the dog stopped, stared at me strangely! May be it had never got this kind of a response ever in its life. It stood frozen there for a while. Then, as though nothing had happened, it just shook itself and walked back to its place!&lt;br /&gt;It took at least a few minutes before I could calm down. Readers wondering what happened to the 3rd friend who was behind me? Well, he saw the dog, he saw me, he immediately closed himself outside the gate!&lt;br /&gt;BTW, I am married this hero now! :-) May be that day he thought, "If she could scare such a ferocious dog away, then what should I fear in life, if I am married to her?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-3728359857905413968?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/3728359857905413968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=3728359857905413968' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3728359857905413968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3728359857905413968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/04/who-scared-who.html' title='Who scared who?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-2225769564068386662</id><published>2008-02-29T15:08:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-29T15:34:11.491+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>Kabir Bedi OR Kiran Bedi?</title><content type='html'>Those were my initial days in DSQ. Just out of college…I hardly had any industry exposure or experience. But I used to be a bundle of energy (even now I sometimes feel, I am more energetic than some college fresh grads!). I knew nothing on IT or Computers! But was radiating with confidence…had a lot of guts to question anything and everything under the sky…truly I was in a state of what you call (ignorance is) bliss!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Readers please note that right from the time I started talking as a kid till this date, I have this disease of ‘verbal’ diarrhea. No medication works. Even the strongest medication was tried (my hubby’s rude advice and criticism which ended up in ‘Mouna vrat’ for a few days… I mean he refused to speak to me). Nothing works! L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of our senior VPs, who was impressed with my articulation of thoughts and (a few) ideas, called me to meet him one-on-one. May be he liked my energy?! I am still wondering what made him call me because I am sure he repents it till today J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was asking me what my aim in life was and what ambitions I had. I was so excited that such a senior person was talking to me. He asked me what I wanted to become. I was (in full-flow) telling him very animatedly all the people I admire. I said I liked Jayalalitha’s courage in dealing with issues. So far, so good! Then, I said, I wanted to become like ‘Kabir Bedi’….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, now, don’t laugh at me! I told you I was excited. Least, did I think that growing a beard would be a challenge! I just spurt it out but realized I made some mistake somewhere. My VP had a twitched brow, a face full of question marks and very hesitantly, he asked “You mean, er, hm, Kiran Bedi?”. Knowing girls of this age, may be he was unsure if I really wanted a gender change or I had made a mistake. I was magnanimous enough to admit that it was just a slip of the tongue (it was a slide, not a slip!). I retorted “Yes, yes, the same Bedi!” with a very ‘matter-of-fact’ look on my face. He then breathed a sigh of relief… He then quickly concluded the conversation and let me go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next I heard about him was when he had quit DSQ in a week’s time after that. Now, don’t blame me for it! I am innocent…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-2225769564068386662?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/2225769564068386662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=2225769564068386662' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/2225769564068386662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/2225769564068386662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/02/kabir-bedi-or-kiran-bedi.html' title='Kabir Bedi OR Kiran Bedi?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-1276909737050667514</id><published>2008-02-29T14:55:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-29T15:00:26.358+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Processes'/><title type='text'>Why Processes? - Contd...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we can’t leave tasks to be performed differently by different individuals, we try to streamline activities by framing processes around them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, why is quality always looked at as ‘documentation’ or an overload of that? Why should we document? Is there any relationship between ‘process-focus’ and ‘documentation’ at all? Do we need SEI or ISO to tell us we are process-oriented? Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us take the example of your mother making ‘Dal’ or some delicious ‘Sambar’ in her kitchen…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has the process ‘institutionalized’ in herself. She is habituated to making it a thousand times. Hence, she need not go through a manual or look at a written down process. She knows clearly what she is doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, you/your wife/sister/brother want to emulate her cooking skills. You need to note down (document?!) the process, follow it a few times until you become an expert!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alternatively, you could watch her and repeat the steps. But that is not scalable! You can’t really pass it on to the others who may want the recipe…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is exactly what we do in business. We have some experts. They have tried and tested many recipes for successful projects. They have documented all that worked (and those that did not too!). If they had not documented or felt lethargic about it, we would be reinventing the wheel now! What a waste of everything it would have been?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you may ask me, why do I have to document my own project-related details (why a requirements document, a design doc and a test plan)? Well, wait for me to continue on more ‘whys’…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-1276909737050667514?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/1276909737050667514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=1276909737050667514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1276909737050667514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/1276909737050667514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-processes-contd.html' title='Why Processes? - Contd...'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-7072087425125186093</id><published>2008-02-25T12:54:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-26T18:16:16.340+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Processes'/><title type='text'>Why Processes?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who have ‘worked’ with me ;-) would know how much I philosophize on this subject. The main reason being, all the quality manuals/policies/procedure documents/guidelines/templates of any company would have loads and loads of information on How/What/When/Which/Where/Who and what not? But, there would not be any mention on “Why we need these processes”. May be the Quality Evangelists always thought that this is a silly question. And, it is “understood”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is, unless we face a challenging situation, we never realize, as practitioners, “Why” we need these processes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without asking a “Why” knowledge is not complete. For those of you who follow Tamil and have watched our evergreen “Puratchi Thalaivar” singing “En endra kelvi ingu ketkamal vazhkai illai” (translated “there is no life if we do not ask the question why”).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asking a why enriches the knowledge by making one understand the rhyme and reason for every theory/concept/action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, again, WHY processes?&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Part 2:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are successful small-timers who do not have processes. But they have to have the same set of people executing the projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, first step, we need processes so that what person A does very well is repeatable by person B (and all the others), in more or less the same precision as person A. This is the baby step towards becoming BIG. Avoid ‘people-dependency’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Else, we would stay in that ’small-timer’ position until we breathe our last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the choice is yours! Do you want to grow “BIG” or remain where you are and be contented with that? Ask yourself…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-7072087425125186093?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/7072087425125186093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=7072087425125186093' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7072087425125186093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7072087425125186093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-processes.html' title='Why Processes?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-3437826632999688827</id><published>2008-02-25T11:53:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-25T11:57:28.638+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>My Blog Post Categories</title><content type='html'>I plan to categorzie my posts under the following headings? Makes sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Fun 'n' Frolic&lt;br /&gt;2. Processes&lt;br /&gt;3. Project Management&lt;br /&gt;4. Team Building&lt;br /&gt;5. Communication&lt;br /&gt;6. Personality Development&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any modifications required?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-3437826632999688827?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/3437826632999688827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=3437826632999688827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3437826632999688827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/3437826632999688827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-blog-post-categories.html' title='My Blog Post Categories'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-5319581286274832203</id><published>2008-02-25T11:00:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-25T11:52:58.523+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project Management (or is it Damagement?)'/><title type='text'>Manager? Whats the big deal?</title><content type='html'>Why should there be so much hype about 'Managers'? We all are managers in our own respect, aren't we? Let me tell you how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are a team member (does not matter if you are a developer or a tester), you need to 'manage' your code/testing with the time allotted and the quality expected. Other than this you also need to manage very well your peer groups, coffee sessions, luncheons, outings - all this and more without creating a dent on your work! Though your official responsibility ends ONLY with your work, since what you do is the 'core' of software services, there is so much more responsibility on you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you become a 'Lead', you once again 'manage' your time with your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;deliverables&lt;/span&gt;, deadlines, quality, teams, management, personal life, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;al&lt;/span&gt;. Here you are held responsible not only for your work but also that of your teams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 'Manager' is a little more loaded &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; for no fault of his, he can actually be punished. So, if the manager is smart, he will know how to delegate work to the right people and stay in peace. This is the main challenge as a Manager. If this hurdle is crossed, then what is the big deal being a 'Manager'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought will pick your brains on this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-5319581286274832203?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/5319581286274832203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=5319581286274832203' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5319581286274832203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/5319581286274832203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/02/manager-whats-big-deal.html' title='Manager? Whats the big deal?'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-7592687533066775323</id><published>2008-02-21T17:39:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-25T11:52:08.341+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun &apos;n&apos; Frolic...'/><title type='text'>My first interview…a debacle!</title><content type='html'>Last semester in the college; lots of campus interview schedules were posted on the notice boards. Friends had all of a sudden turned competitors in life. Everything looked challenging and strange. A whole host of Aptitude Tests, GDs (no, not my name…I meant the Group Discussions), Tech Interviews and Personal Interviews were happening all around. There were shouts of joy and ramblings of disappointments…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was nervous. I had to attend interviews too. But I had stumbling blocks in the Aptis and GDs (you see, GDs in any form is a pain!). There was this company (anonymity maintained, so that my reputation is saved!) who had called for an interview first. So there I was in my first interview without having to undergo (and fail) any of the tests and discussions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the appointed hour, I presented myself, in front of the interview panel. It was a 4 member team. The job was for a ‘Marketing’ position. I have always been proud of my gift of the gab! So I was sure to talk my way through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the initial round of introductions and background stories (in which I gave an exemplary performance), one of the interviewers asked me (straight in my eye): “What would you propose as a marketing strategy for marketing product x in India?” I am not joking but I could kind of feel my head spin. I thought, and thought and thought…then I said. “Look, I have a mental block. I am unable to answer this question.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the interviewer empathized with me. He asked me to sip the water from the glass kept there and asked me some other ‘general’ questions about our campus-life and degree and all that. I was so bright in answering all these questions. Then after a few minutes, another guy shot the second question “What are the various marketing techniques that you have come across?” Once again, I went blank… Once again, I had the same feeling of my head-spinning…Once again, I thought, and thought and thought…Once again, I said (a little bit apologetically), “See, I have a mental block. Can I answer this question after sometime?” The panel members looked at each other. I felt like killing myself as I knew very well that look meant “What the hell is she here for?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were growing impatient with my ‘mental block’. So again a couple of other light-weight questions/discussions. By now, the third interviewer asked me “Now, let me give you a case study. Let us say, your area is not yielding results in marketing product y. How will you approach this problem and meet your targets?” Needless to say, I said the same words again, shamelessly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The panel now became silent. Now they asked me if I had any questions. If I had had the experience that I have today, I would have understood what that meant. But so gullible that I was, that I asked them “Do I stand a chance to be offered an appointment in your esteemed organization?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The look that the interviewers gave me now, conveyed that my ‘mental block’ was transferred to them… if only they had had the power to bring me down to ashes, I am sure they would have done that. Thankfully, I escaped!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-7592687533066775323?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/7592687533066775323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=7592687533066775323' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7592687533066775323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/7592687533066775323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-first-interviewa-debacle.html' title='My first interview…a debacle!'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1222801708327169176.post-6124572547432314284</id><published>2008-02-21T16:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-21T17:38:57.934+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome all to the world of GD...'/><title type='text'>Puff...puff...here comes my first post...</title><content type='html'>Thanks all who encouraged me to start my own blog. Incidentally, I also attended a forum on techniques of good writing. Some experts kept insisting writing is Science. I strongly disagreed, though! It has to be an ART! Otherwise, how come all those who top their Science papers in school do not usually come out well in their Literature papers?! If a Research Scientist could also write gripping tales, he is really a gifted person. Well, well...my first post is not about whether Writing is an Art or a Science... it is just a launch post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would be talking about projects and the goof-ups, some fun stories from my personal life, some of my friends, some incidents which left a deep impact in me, when I cried most, when I laughed most and what not? Welcome all to the world of GD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1222801708327169176-6124572547432314284?l=gdstrikes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/feeds/6124572547432314284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1222801708327169176&amp;postID=6124572547432314284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/6124572547432314284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1222801708327169176/posts/default/6124572547432314284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdstrikes.blogspot.com/2008/02/puffpuffhere-comes-my-first-post.html' title='Puff...puff...here comes my first post...'/><author><name>GD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08015113047532439955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_yIPsf6WbjY0/R8p5TpuyHxI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AUY52r2YzCA/S220/leaves.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
