It’s 10:00 AM already, and I’m late for the exam. It feels weird to be back in exam mode. You know how you get that sinking feeling just before walking into the exam because you don’t know anything about the subject? I thought I’d left that feeling behind when I finished my Engineering, but apparently, its a feeling you carry for life. It’s like learning a bicycle - You never forget it.

Today’s exam is Marketing. Marketing is one of those subjects where you never know what the hell is happening in class. We had a text book prescribed to us - The infamous Kotler, for those in the know - but on the first day of class, our prof said that he’d never liked the text book, and he recommended we NOT waste our time reading it.

The Prof saying the recommended text book is of no use. That’s new. I wish all of our Engineering Profs had come to this realization.

Even without a text book to do last-minute mugging from, the familiar exam-hall scene doesn’t disappoint. There are scores of people reading through some printouts and notes, trying desperately to grasp on to the subject - to get hold of something that sounds familiar, but no use. It’s like a drowning man in the middle of the sea, desperately splashing about trying to get hold of something to float on to, but finding nothing. And you all know what happens to the man next - He drowns into the vast ocean, which has euphemistically been called the ocean of knowledge. If you drown into an ocean, even if it is the one of knowledge, isn’t that a bad thing? ‘Cause you’re drowning for god’s sake! How can that be a good thing?

Anyway, we enter the exam hall. The Question Paper is sitting right in front of me. Everyone in the room is tensed, even more so because this is an open book exam. We’re allowed to bring in any textbook/notes/reference material into the exam, but all of us know what that means - The answers are not going to be in any text book. That makes matter worse.

“You may begin” the TA announces, and I gingerly open the exam booklet. ‘Please let me understand the first question. Please let me at least know what the question means’ - I utter my silent prayer to myself.

And then there it is - The first question. Just as I finish reading it, I feel the sudden juxtaposition of fear and humor. That feeling where you don’t know whether to laugh or to cry - to smile or to bang your head against the desk.

“How will you go about selling razor blades in Afghanistan? Discuss.”

The Prof wants us to sell razor blades in a country where beards are all the rage. And that too when a large percentage of the population has not brushed their teeth EVER, let alone heard of toothpaste. How am I supposed to sell razor blades to these bearded tribesmen? The best use they have for razor blades is probably to shave their sheep and goats. And I haven’t heard of goats trying to shave.

This is just awesome. I spend the next 10 minutes staring at the ceiling, because, well, there was nothing better to do.

Since I don’t want to leave the exam paper blank, I go to the extent of recommending selling razors to women - I had to write SOMETHING - to help penetrate the Afghan razor market. After the exam is over we all sit and discuss the paper. No one knows what’s going to come of it, but at the end of the day, it was fun.

I hope I get marks for my handwriting at least. Not because my handwriting is good, but because it is so bad that he won’t understand what’s written and give me the benefit of the doubt. That’s my only chance!

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The wife and I were discussing the meaning of life the other day, and she was a bit surprised when I said that “The purpose of my life is to buy a BMW 7 series car!“. That she was surprised surprised me, because everyone knows that the ultimate goal of life is to buy luxury cars. I haven’t confirmed it with the Dalai Lama and The Pope yet, but I think they agree. (Just FYI: The Dalai Lama has a Land Rover and The Pope owns a modified Range Rover.)

Anyway, as the discussion progressed, I made a very persuasive and passionate argument explaining my position. I think my argument was very logical and consistent, but the wife disagreed, and her exact words, I believe were: “You’re full of nonsense!!”

So here is where I need your help, faithful readers of my blog. My brilliant argument for buying BMWs is below. Read it, and tell me whether you agree with it or not! Make me proud!

Argument for buying fancy expensive cars:

We can generally agree that I am young and foolish. And young and foolish is the best time to buy expensive cars, because if I become old and wise by the time I buy a BMW, I will know better than to waste money on ostentatious display of automotive excess. If I gain wisdom before I gain a BMW, other priorities of life like owning a house, saving for retirement and children’s educations will take priority over my precious BMW. Therefore, it follows that the main priority of my life should be buying a BMW.

There is an advertisement for an insurance company, I think, that shows a young man wanting to spend money on himself, but doesn’t because he ends up thinking about his wife, his kids etc… You know what happens to that man at the end of the ad? He jumps into a river! I don’t know if he drowns or not, but the important thing is that he doesn’t get his Mercedes.

No one wants to drown in a river. Therefore, one must strive to buy a Mercedes as soon as one can to avoid a tragic end like the man from the advertisement.

So, my dear readers. Are you convinced? Is buying a BMW the sole purpose of life? Let me know in the comments!

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Here in Whitefield, Bangalore, the roads are totally jammed all the time. There is a very small road that leads towards ITPL and much of the IT companies. Especially in the morning, the traffic scene is very bad.

But something weird happened this morning. On the road leading out of the IT area, there are only 2 lanes, and at the signal, the left lane usually turns left, and the folks in the right lane usually turn right. This morning, a cab driver was in the left lane, but was waiting for the traffic signal to take the right turn. Predictably, this piled up the traffic on the left lane causing plenty of honking.

Now this is not a new or novel scene in Bangalore at all, but what happened next was quite interesting. There was an auto driver behind this cab in the wrong lane, and he was getting increasingly frustrated, because he wanted to turn left, and this ass of a cab driver was blocking him. After 10 seconds of frustrating honking, the auto driver got out of his auto and went up to  the cab driver and started yelling at him.

An Auto Driver, yelling at a Cab driver. For being in the wrong lane. Can you imagine?

What is Bangalore coming to? Are we all getting so westernized that we now expect to drive in the correct lane? Are the Auto Drivers, the custodians of Bangalore’s roads, also coming under the corrupting influence of westernization? If the Auto Drivers don’t protect our culture and traditions of driving like drunk maniacs, who will? We must all rally against this moral degradation of our culture and wipe out these modern notions like lane discipline. THIS IS AGAINST OUR CULTURE!!!

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Man, I hate shopping. I feel so uncomfortable in a store that I often compare myself to prisoners of war and start thinking of what strategies they must have used to get over their tortourous environment.

But shopping is an inevitable exercise, even for me, so I have adapted some strategies to overcome the near-death-experience feeling I used to get when I went to shopper’s stop earlier.

The key is to think of shopping as a commando operation to strike deep into enemy territory. Just like how British spies didn’t like to spend more time than was necessary in Nazi Germany, I too want to minimize my exposure to departmental stores. There is a lot of planning involved ahead of time. I will usually create a mental map of the store, mark out all the places in the store that have the stuff I need, and plot a course through the store that hits all the targets and has a clear and fast exit strategy.

On the day of the assault, I come mentally prepared. I will also prep the wife for my shopping trip, warning her ahead of time not to get distracted by enemy installations that are scattered all around the store, which are designed to trap the weak mind. And once you are trapped in shoes-surrounded enemy territory, its the end for you. There is no way out.

The wife, however, deeply objects to my interpretation of shopping. She prefers to think of shopping trips as an excursion to a museum. The store has all this art work on display, and it is our duty to respect the artist and sample all the merchandise that has been presented.

As you’ve all probably guessed by now, these two strategies are deeply incompatible, and whenever the wife and I go shopping, we somehow end up in a situation where I think I’m about to be shot by an enemy sniper disguised as a perfume salesman, and the wife thinks she’s in deep philosophical discussion about human nature with Socrates disguised as the friendly fashion consultant at the store.

Anyway, I had a bit of an epiphany today when I saw a glimpse of what the wife did with her shopping strategy. She bought me a suit today, but the interesting thing is how she paid for it. Through a combination of discounts, a sale, store loyalty program, gift vouchers and credit-card points redemption, she bought the suit which was marked at Rs 7,000 WITHOUT PAYING ANY MONEY!!! That’s right, she effectively got it for free!

And since how much I like stuff depends inversely on how much it costs, I absolutely love my new suit!

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All characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living in Bangalore is entirely co-incidental and non-intentional.

There. Now that we have the legal disclaimers out of the way, I can feel free to tell the story.

So, since the last time we checked in with Chitradeep Chetty, he’s been off to the jungles of Bandipur several times and has photographed several tigers. He’s also been showing off these pictures, especially after some of them got published.

A couple of months ago, he invited me, the wife, and a group of other friends to go to his sasuraal (bandipur). He said it would be great, he could get us inside the forest and we could see tigers and other wildlife. It sounded interesting and off we went.

So we’re in the forest on a safari. The forest itself was actually quite beautiful. There were lots and lots of trees and flowers and branches and leaves… but no tigers. There were 8 of us, and after a while, we started getting impatient, and started chatting about the good old days. This upset Chitradeep.

Chitradeep: “Sshhh… guys. Don’t talk loudly in the jungle.”
Me: <in a hushed voice>: “Why?”
Chitradeep: <getting more annoyed, dripping with sarcasm>: “Because the tigers are talking on their phones and you are disturbing them. Huh!”
Me: “That’s absurd…. How are the tigers getting signal here, deep in the jungle?”

There was an awkward silence that followed, where everyone wanted to laugh, but Chitradeep was staring us down, and we settled for a hushed giggle.

We continued to wander in the jungle, and we occasionally saw some birds. And then we saw a big buffalo type thing. It looked just like the buffaloes you can see on the streets of Bangalore, but apparently this one was special, so we all respectfully nodded our appreciation. After a while, we went and waited by a watering hole, hoping that some wildlife will turn up.

We waited, but apparently the animals were not coming. We began to speculate why.
Me: “Why aren’t the elephants coming to drink?”
AJ: “They will come to drink after an hour.”
Me: “How do you know?”
AJ: “Happy hour starts then.”

More hushed giggles and more staring by Chitradeep.

We waited for some more time, and the elephants finally came. It was pretty cool. They were so big and majestic. Several of them, including 3 cute little baby elephants. They came to the water, hung around there for a while and socialized. (With each other, not with us.)

And then, they started to do something crazy. They started picking up mud and throwing it on themselves. Disgusting. That too just after washing themselves. The baby elephants were also rolling in the mud, covering themselves up with dirt.

Me: “That’s disgusting. Why are they doing that?”
Chitradeep: “They do it to protect themselves. The mud acts like a sunscreen to their skin.”
PR: “It doesn’t seem to be working. Look how dark their skin still is.”

More giggles and more staring by Chiradeep.

We started moving along the jungle track when suddenly the driver jammed on the brakes. He shut off the engine. Chitradeep Chetty turned back and motioned us to keep quite. Silence. Just the sounds of the jungle. Everyone is frozen in their seats. We’re all frantically looking around to see what we have run up against. Chitradeep Chetty gets out of the jeep gingerly. He’s stepping very carefully away from the Jeep. He turns back and motions us to come out the jeep slowly and without making noise. We walk up to him. Silence. He points his hand to the ground just around a bush. We peek our heads. And there it is.

Tiger droppings.

I’m like: “What the hell?” and Chitrdeep is all excited that he has seen tiger shit today. It’s like once in a week occurrence here in Bandipur, apparently. After excitingly starting at it for a while, we return back to the lodge, all the while Chitradeep is in high spirits, and as soon as we reach, he goes off to discuss today’s catch with his jungle-lodge buddies.

So, to summarize our trip: We came, we saw, and we smelt.

Anyhow, the trip was quite fun. We saw a few more animals, several peacocks and still more elephants. But no tigers or leopards. Chitradeep Chetty has assured us that the next time we come, he will make sure to schedule a meeting in the tiger’s calendars.

Update: Check out Chitradeep’s wildlife photos here, and judge for yourself if this is a scam!

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Well, now that I have decided that I will be going to ISB, I thought I might start some preparation for my MBA course. People have told me that it is a very hectic course, so some preparation might be in order.

To that effect, I went and bought a couple of books, a scientific calculator and started working out problems from “Options, Futures and Other Derivatives” by John Hull. I then organized a study group of all the Bangalore people who are also going to ISB this year, and started working on Business Plans for the Entrepreneurship course at ISB.

ROTFL.

I bet I had some of you fooled there. For those of you who have known me for a while, you might have realized its a joke as soon as you read the word “preparation”.

But it is true: I have been preparing for life in  Hyderabad, but differently than you might imagine.

I first researched all the places in Hyderabad where the famous Hyderabadi Biryani is available. There are lots and lots of places where the good stuff is available. I also discovered that the awesome ‘Pheni’ (which is a sweet) is also available everywhere in Hyderabad.

I also found out where the IPL matches will be held (home of the Deccan Chargers!) and what the likely schedule is. I hope I get to go to a few matches!

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Let me try some of my own hyper-intelligent and super smart blog posts. I’ll start with my Delhi - 6 review. So I’ve copied the review and pasted it in the box… hit submit and…

WTF?!?!?!?!!!!! The internets think my Delhi - 6 review is stupid?!?!?!??? The tubes must be clogged again!

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