I am a prospective MBA student who wants to apply to schools in the US as mentioned before on this blog, so I end up reading a lot of related articles from businessweek online to gain perspective and keep myself aware.
I saw this article titled 'Degree arrives, Job Vanishes' by an Indian guy named Sunny, who was raised in America, I assume, because the article says he grew up in Queens. He writes about his experience being a recent graduate from Ross School of Business, Michigan with a withdrawn post-mba job offer from the financial giant Bear Stearns that was taken over by JPMorgan Chase recently. The article talks about his struggle to find himself another job and is written well, but what shocked the living wits out of me were the comments that were posted by readers under the article. About half of the comments ranged from offensive to borderline racist to completely unacceptable. I cannot believe that so much racism can exist, even today, in a country like the United States that has such a mixed culture and where the economy is heavily contributed to, by 'coloured' people. I guess, the pressure of the recession there is making certain Americans even more hostile towards foreigners in their country, who might have/take the jobs that they don't have.
The link to the article:
http://www.businessweek.com/bschools/content/apr2008/bs20080427_135843.htm?campaign_id=alerts
You can scroll down to the bottom of the page to read those atrocious comments.
Apr 29, 2008
Apr 28, 2008
Dear Diary,
7:00 AM Hit the snooze button on that nasty, shrill cellphone alarm.
7:15 AM Dragged myself out of bed. Showered, brushed and dressed with my eyes closed. I am talented that way.
7:45 AM Dragged my laptop and other office peripherals down to the breakfast table. Managed to stuff a toast,an omelette and my daily dose of 4 colourful pills down my throat.... all with my eyes still closed. I know, this is starting to sound unbelievable, but trust me on this.
8:00 AM Finally, the bright daylight outside forces my eyes open and I hop into my Santro to zip through the excitingly unpredictable Hyderabad traffic to get to work.
8:30 AM Sharukh and the Santro advertisements lie. Zip-driving does not depend on the car, but on the traffic. Thanks to my rahu-shani conspiring against me, all the rash motorcyclists, broken-down buses and the slowest autos were all in my way. Still got another thirty minutes to go.
9:05 AM Wohoo, made it to office without any scratches on my precious car. Good job, babe! Walked into this 9-6 training that I was nominated for - Creativity and Problem Solving, it is called. The trainer is late... Damn, the day I make it on time, the trainer is late...Grrr.
10:30 AM The trainer walks in. I want to be mad at him but he greets us with this sweet, genuine smile and complains about the traffic in Hyderabad and I immediately warm up to him. He is a middle-aged man who has served 22 years in the US Navy and now works with a Training and Development company.
11:30 AM After the initial discussion about the program and basic definitions of 'creativity' and 'innovation', we were asked to sit in a circle. We followed instructions. We were then, asked to extemporeaneously make an advertisement for a floor-cleaning detergent called clean n glow. The most unexpected people came out with the wittiest, funniest commercials ever. Fantastic experience. Gave us all a headrush.
1:00 PM Boring lunch at boring cafeteria.
2:00 PM Some more talk about techniques to enhance creativity at the workplace.
3:00 PM The trainer decides we look sleepy and says we have another activity to go. So I am all charged thinking it might be another commercial but to my surprise and somewhat confusion, the trainer pulls out an egg from his bag and hands it to me and says 'This is yours.' My team and I are staring at the egg for a minute or two till he proceeds to explain what we are to do with the egg. He explains that the activity is to throw the egg from the fourth floor of the office building on to the concrete ground below. We are ummm, dumbstruck. He then passes on four balloons, a couple of plastic straws, thread, tape and newspaper and says you have an hour.
3:30 PM The team is still arguing among itself to decide whose contraption idea would be best to save our precious egg from the impact of the fall. Finally, one guy who stopped arguing and starting building his contraption won as we were running out of time on this one.
4:00 PM It was ready. Our contraption. There was a newspaper parachute attached to straws that held a huge balloon which had another balloon in it that in turn had our precious egg. A few more balloons were added under the "egg" balloon for cushioning effect. This was all the on-the-spot engineering that we could manage.
4:15 PM The fateful moment arrived. All the teams were ready to face their destiny. One egg out of five broke. It wasn't ours and we were ecstatic. It made me think, if it is possible to throw an egg from the fourth floor of a building and not let it break ( in four possible ways), there is hope in the world for so much...
5:00 PM All the teams flushed with energy and passion, came back into the room, ready to get done with this training. The last activity for the day was to 'save your balloon'. Every person was given one balloon and one toothpick and the aim of the game was to 'save your balloon'. The trainer uttered the words and everyone started running to others and bursting their balloons. This insanity continued till there was no one with an intact balloon. The trainer then said, "the objective was to save your balloon, not puncture other's balloons." Everyone just looks at each other. I guess we are instinctively trying to step on others to reach our goals.
6:00 PM I went over to my desk, wrote a script for a movie we are making for a women's conference and then left office to battle the traffic again.
Whew, what a long day, but boy was it fun.
7:15 AM Dragged myself out of bed. Showered, brushed and dressed with my eyes closed. I am talented that way.
7:45 AM Dragged my laptop and other office peripherals down to the breakfast table. Managed to stuff a toast,an omelette and my daily dose of 4 colourful pills down my throat.... all with my eyes still closed. I know, this is starting to sound unbelievable, but trust me on this.
8:00 AM Finally, the bright daylight outside forces my eyes open and I hop into my Santro to zip through the excitingly unpredictable Hyderabad traffic to get to work.
8:30 AM Sharukh and the Santro advertisements lie. Zip-driving does not depend on the car, but on the traffic. Thanks to my rahu-shani conspiring against me, all the rash motorcyclists, broken-down buses and the slowest autos were all in my way. Still got another thirty minutes to go.
9:05 AM Wohoo, made it to office without any scratches on my precious car. Good job, babe! Walked into this 9-6 training that I was nominated for - Creativity and Problem Solving, it is called. The trainer is late... Damn, the day I make it on time, the trainer is late...Grrr.
10:30 AM The trainer walks in. I want to be mad at him but he greets us with this sweet, genuine smile and complains about the traffic in Hyderabad and I immediately warm up to him. He is a middle-aged man who has served 22 years in the US Navy and now works with a Training and Development company.
11:30 AM After the initial discussion about the program and basic definitions of 'creativity' and 'innovation', we were asked to sit in a circle. We followed instructions. We were then, asked to extemporeaneously make an advertisement for a floor-cleaning detergent called clean n glow. The most unexpected people came out with the wittiest, funniest commercials ever. Fantastic experience. Gave us all a headrush.
1:00 PM Boring lunch at boring cafeteria.
2:00 PM Some more talk about techniques to enhance creativity at the workplace.
3:00 PM The trainer decides we look sleepy and says we have another activity to go. So I am all charged thinking it might be another commercial but to my surprise and somewhat confusion, the trainer pulls out an egg from his bag and hands it to me and says 'This is yours.' My team and I are staring at the egg for a minute or two till he proceeds to explain what we are to do with the egg. He explains that the activity is to throw the egg from the fourth floor of the office building on to the concrete ground below. We are ummm, dumbstruck. He then passes on four balloons, a couple of plastic straws, thread, tape and newspaper and says you have an hour.
3:30 PM The team is still arguing among itself to decide whose contraption idea would be best to save our precious egg from the impact of the fall. Finally, one guy who stopped arguing and starting building his contraption won as we were running out of time on this one.
4:00 PM It was ready. Our contraption. There was a newspaper parachute attached to straws that held a huge balloon which had another balloon in it that in turn had our precious egg. A few more balloons were added under the "egg" balloon for cushioning effect. This was all the on-the-spot engineering that we could manage.
4:15 PM The fateful moment arrived. All the teams were ready to face their destiny. One egg out of five broke. It wasn't ours and we were ecstatic. It made me think, if it is possible to throw an egg from the fourth floor of a building and not let it break ( in four possible ways), there is hope in the world for so much...
5:00 PM All the teams flushed with energy and passion, came back into the room, ready to get done with this training. The last activity for the day was to 'save your balloon'. Every person was given one balloon and one toothpick and the aim of the game was to 'save your balloon'. The trainer uttered the words and everyone started running to others and bursting their balloons. This insanity continued till there was no one with an intact balloon. The trainer then said, "the objective was to save your balloon, not puncture other's balloons." Everyone just looks at each other. I guess we are instinctively trying to step on others to reach our goals.
6:00 PM I went over to my desk, wrote a script for a movie we are making for a women's conference and then left office to battle the traffic again.
Whew, what a long day, but boy was it fun.
Apr 24, 2008
Happy Birthday!
Yaaay, It is 'the Sushi bar's' first birthday this month. I am surprised that I have nurtured this baby for a year now. For a person of fleeting interest in things, I am quite surprised at my sustained interest in this blog. It has been a friend, a therapist, an ego-booster (thanks to some regular readers who say they like to come back here often), an ego-deflater(I used to think I am a good writer, till I ran into all these other great writers who humbled me, namely Bhavna, Morpheus, Fictitioustruth, Ram Cobain, Walker etc), and a warm shelter too.
Happy First Birthday. Thanks for being there(except during power cuts, internet issues and laptop crashings). I sure hope I can take you to your second birthday next year.
Happy First Birthday. Thanks for being there(except during power cuts, internet issues and laptop crashings). I sure hope I can take you to your second birthday next year.
Apr 17, 2008
Strange love.
Hugs to hari for sending me this bit of beautiful writing below. It's delightful!!
once i had a strange love,
a mad sort of insane love,
a love so fast and fierce i thought i'd die
yes once i had a strange love,
a pure but very pained love,
a love that burned like fire through a field
oh once i had a strange love,
a childlike but deranged love,
a love that if were bottled it would kill.
see once i had a strange love,
a secret and untamed love,
a love that took no prisoners at all
and once i had a strange love
a psychic unexplained love,
a love that challenged scientific facts
and then there was that strange love,
that very badly trained love,
a love that needed discipline and facts
once i had a strange love
a public acclaimed love,
the kind of love that's seen in magazines.
and once i had a strange love,
a beautiful but vained love,
a love i think it's better left in dreams
and once i had a strange love,
a morally inflamed love,
we'd go on holy battles in the nights
and then there was that strange love
that vulgar and profane love,
the kind of love that we don't talk about
yes, once i had a strange love,
a lying infidel love,
who wove in stories like sherazade
and once i had a strange love,
a flaky white kinky love,
we ran so fast we almost spilled our guts..
you see i've had some strange love,
some good, some bad, some plain love,
some so-so love, and c'est la vie...
but just let me proclaim that, out of all the strange love you're the strangest love i've ever known....
once i had a strange love,
a mad sort of insane love,
a love so fast and fierce i thought i'd die
yes once i had a strange love,
a pure but very pained love,
a love that burned like fire through a field
oh once i had a strange love,
a childlike but deranged love,
a love that if were bottled it would kill.
see once i had a strange love,
a secret and untamed love,
a love that took no prisoners at all
and once i had a strange love
a psychic unexplained love,
a love that challenged scientific facts
and then there was that strange love,
that very badly trained love,
a love that needed discipline and facts
once i had a strange love
a public acclaimed love,
the kind of love that's seen in magazines.
and once i had a strange love,
a beautiful but vained love,
a love i think it's better left in dreams
and once i had a strange love,
a morally inflamed love,
we'd go on holy battles in the nights
and then there was that strange love
that vulgar and profane love,
the kind of love that we don't talk about
yes, once i had a strange love,
a lying infidel love,
who wove in stories like sherazade
and once i had a strange love,
a flaky white kinky love,
we ran so fast we almost spilled our guts..
you see i've had some strange love,
some good, some bad, some plain love,
some so-so love, and c'est la vie...
but just let me proclaim that, out of all the strange love you're the strangest love i've ever known....
Apr 15, 2008
Self-love is the best love.
I think I have lost touch with myself somewhere along the way. I can't just be alone anymore. My destructive, dark thoughts eat me up when I have no one else to distract me. I don't enjoy my company. If I don't enjoy being with me, who will?
I read a quote somewhere that says, the difference between the glowing success story and the crushing failure isn't luck, or fate, or intelligence, it's the ability to bounce back. So true, and that only comes from really knowing your worth and realising that you have the power to do whatever you want. To love and believe in yourself, is the hardest task for me, but once I master it, I am the master of the world. ( Wait!!! gender-baised words in this sentence are bugging me...but I don't think I can say 'once I mistress it', can I?)
A poem below by Veronica A. Shoffstall, who at a tender age of nineteen, really understood the essence of it all and penned it so beautifully:
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you are really strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...
I read a quote somewhere that says, the difference between the glowing success story and the crushing failure isn't luck, or fate, or intelligence, it's the ability to bounce back. So true, and that only comes from really knowing your worth and realising that you have the power to do whatever you want. To love and believe in yourself, is the hardest task for me, but once I master it, I am the master of the world. ( Wait!!! gender-baised words in this sentence are bugging me...but I don't think I can say 'once I mistress it', can I?)
A poem below by Veronica A. Shoffstall, who at a tender age of nineteen, really understood the essence of it all and penned it so beautifully:
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you are really strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...
Apr 6, 2008
A sad state of affairs.
Every morning is a war. I wake up with a mission to get through another day, to make it to the other side, even if I have to crawl till the finish line. I put my armour on - my fake smile taking attention away from my melancholic eyes, my "happy, go-lucky" attitude makes me forget my scars for the moment. I push the thoughts of self-doubt and self-pity to the very back of my conscious mind, to store it off somewhere so I can focus on the day at work and deal with those feelings later. And they come back to haunt me when I am naked, without my armour on, without my pretense on.
My mindless days end in restless nights.... nights of broken sleep and broken dreams. Did I ruin it all for myself? Am I my worst enemy? My endless rant is, if I could only go back in time, if I could only switch this one decision around....but it is never about one decision or one choice is it. It seems like the pawns have been played very carefully by destiny/whoever it is that is pulling my strings up there in really bringing me to this standstill. I am in the middle of quicksand that will engulf me if I stay at status quo for another minute, but one step forward is too risky and one step backward is dangerously comfortable.
I look at the single rose, he gave me. A warm, fuzzy feeling fills up my wounded heart. The glistening drops of dew on it, remind me of dawn, of hope. It makes me smile. But I know in a few days, the petals will wilt away,...and disappear and so will his small gestures and his vow to change his past ways. It also makes me cry. He tugs at my heart with his hopeful eyes, his pleading, soft voice making promises of a brighter tomorrow for us. But the voices in my head warn me....not to trust him or anyone again....not to let my guard down and leave myself vulnerable to all that pain that I went through before. I am cursed.... I live in an eternal state of confusion, of ambiguity, of hesitation ....If only I could choose, for once, with no regrets, whichever way it turns out. God, give me the strength to decide and move on or to decide and get lost in this sinful, painful pleasure called love.
My mindless days end in restless nights.... nights of broken sleep and broken dreams. Did I ruin it all for myself? Am I my worst enemy? My endless rant is, if I could only go back in time, if I could only switch this one decision around....but it is never about one decision or one choice is it. It seems like the pawns have been played very carefully by destiny/whoever it is that is pulling my strings up there in really bringing me to this standstill. I am in the middle of quicksand that will engulf me if I stay at status quo for another minute, but one step forward is too risky and one step backward is dangerously comfortable.
I look at the single rose, he gave me. A warm, fuzzy feeling fills up my wounded heart. The glistening drops of dew on it, remind me of dawn, of hope. It makes me smile. But I know in a few days, the petals will wilt away,...and disappear and so will his small gestures and his vow to change his past ways. It also makes me cry. He tugs at my heart with his hopeful eyes, his pleading, soft voice making promises of a brighter tomorrow for us. But the voices in my head warn me....not to trust him or anyone again....not to let my guard down and leave myself vulnerable to all that pain that I went through before. I am cursed.... I live in an eternal state of confusion, of ambiguity, of hesitation ....If only I could choose, for once, with no regrets, whichever way it turns out. God, give me the strength to decide and move on or to decide and get lost in this sinful, painful pleasure called love.
Apr 4, 2008
...
lost, cold, determined to move on, regretful, hopeful, unsure, nostalgic, hungry, hurt, angry, TIRED, numb, vengeful, DONE , drenched, loved, momentarily distracted, ready,looking to escape, lacking, at crossroads, a nomad, searching for the light, off-track, passionate, missing him, out there, restless, reluctant, "bitchy", existing...
I am.
note - this list will grow with me.
I am.
note - this list will grow with me.
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