Ogling survey

“A new survey of office-goers in Britain has thrown up stunning statistics. Office workers in Britain spend around 600 hours ogling at a colleague they have a crush on, the survey has revealed.
According to the study, office staffs spend almost 60,000 hours sitting at their office desk during their career. And they do a lot of things during the career to break monotony and to maintain some semblance of order.
During the entire period, they drink nearly 32,000 cups of tea or coffee and make about 110,000 phone calls, reports The Sun.
And two out of five employees end up in bed with their workmates, the study found. So much for mixing work with pleasure!
They will also write 50,000 lists of things to do over the years, receive more than 320,000 emails and have 13 job interviews. That is a lot of ambition and literary pursuit to have.
To reach the results, a total of 1,200 workers were polled."

Reported in http://www.ibnlive.com/news/office-workers-spend-600-hours-of-working-life-ogling-colleagues/72429-19.html

I am intrigued – very, very intrigued.

Firstly, who did this survey ? If it was a student , then what course actually demands such a survey ? Had I proposed such a survey in any Indian University, I would have been in the hitlist of the student unions governed by leaders who have a vast experience of student life by spending much more time than stipulated by academic requirements. Case in point is the picture of the ‘student’ leaders of All Assam Student Union .
Challenge to anyone – which of them actually look like a student ? Maybe the one in pink shirt – but he is more like a hanger on who plays ‘follow the leader’ all his life. The almost-baldie beardie was hirusite when I recall seeing his face plastered across the newspapers ages ago when I was in primary school …and, that was a long time ago…a really long time !!! He was a leader in the early eighties and is a student since then. Time has taken a toll on his headful of hair, but he still remains a student, with nothing else but his heart and soul.

Anyways, I digress.

Now had I managed to escape the wrath of these leader, surely the teachers would have directed their ire against me since academics is serious business and nowhere can I imagine proposing to do a study on how long does an office worker spend his time ogling at other office workers. School was a place where we were reprimanded for talking too much, laughing too loudly or playing too hard. In true convent traditions, we were trained to stop whatever we were doing when the first bell rang in the playground and then move as quietly as we can when the 2nd bell rang to form uniformed straight lines for an assembly where we prayed and were lectured on how we can be ‘good girls’. Once, I even remember, an hour long sermon being delivered because someone was heard calling another ‘Piggy’…well, it did seem like an hour ( I believe in the theory of relativity). I prayed the same prayers for every day of my school life, but today,I fail to recall even one prayer correctly. Not a case of memory loss, but simply the heart not being in it. Finally, when we were released to the big bad world that the nuns tried their best to protect us from, I took the pleasure, like others, of being like a child let loose on a playground filled with unimaginable toys and chocolates. However, the teachers brought us back to ground zero – briefly and at irregular intervals, I hasten to add, when we had to face the exams and write thesis in order to gain the right academic qualifications. The thesis was titled in heavy sounding words, which impressed us but which we did not understand. Titles like ‘Scattering ray phenomenon and light dispersion of gamma rays’, which we had to present as students of Physics. Of course, nothing but the uncertainity of the Uncertainity Principles now remain, but I recollect our teachers being serious individuals with the weight of the world in their shoulders, clad in dour clothing to present to the world a serious outlook of life in general and Physics in particular. No, none of them were like Sushmita Sen in Main Hoon Na.

Going back to the survey, I now want to look at the findings.
1. Office workers in Britain spend around 600 hours ogling at a colleague they have a crush on
Really ? In all my working life, I have never seen anybody ogling at anyone else and yes, I work at the City, which is supposedly notorious in all these ‘mamlas’. Maybe, this phenomenon has escaped me, utterly and completely. I am talking from the third party objective point of view, lest you think of this as a case of sour grapes.

2. Office staffs spend almost 60,000 hours sitting at their office desk during their career
This I can agree and identify with. After all, there is no other option, is there ? I can’t exactly dance and jump with joy without being dragged by HR for a Health and Safety violation.

3. During the entire period, they drink nearly 32,000 cups of tea or coffee and make about 110,000 phone calls
That much ..hmm !! Maybe, can’t vouch for it but then, like all reports, this too is skewed since it reveals towards the end of the survey that this report is based on 1200 workers and so do each worker have 32,000 cups each during their average lifetime or is it that 1200 workers have 32,000 cups in one year…a bit confusing, at best.

4. Two out of five employees end up in bed with their workmates
By that logic, a large number of my colleagues must be sharing the car pool every morning in a bid to save the environment and the office must be a ‘love’y place with so many cupids flying around. Sadly, I have never seen this happen…yet.

5. They will also write 50,000 lists of things to do over the years, receive more than 320,000 emails and have 13 job interviews
Ok…I can take that at face value. Not interesting enough…hah!

This survey was reported in the Sun, a newspaper that few would like to be caught dead with and which have a readership who is common-sensically challenged and believes that Aliens flock to Britain in large numbers of UFOs.
"BRITONS have spotted a staggering 150 UFOs this year, The Sun can reveal.
That compares with just 135 sightings reported to the Ministry of Defence for the whole of last year — and 97 the year before."

Another curious thing that intrigues me is why should the ogling survery be reported in IBN Live, a seemingly respectable portal for news concerning India ? Did we have no other news worth reporting than this piece of crap that will put even the imagination of many B Grade Bollywood movie writers to shame ?

Off I go now….to apply for a new job, in a new office where I can sit and oogle ( at the printer maybe) and work out which 2 out of 5 of my workmates spent the night sleeping together and write thousands of email about such activities while drinking endless cups of tea. Ah bliss.

Borrowing and butchering a line from the Great Mughal Jahangir, who actually knew a lot about mixing business and pleasure…

Gar Firdaus Bay Roo-e-Zernin-ast Hamin office asto, Hamin office asto, Hamin office asto.

Vijay

Britain is celebrating its best Olympic results in a century and for a nation of just 60 million people, its 3rd in the medal tally, just after the mighty China and USA. As the medals continue to pour in raising the sporting spirit of this nation, there is a sense of excitement rippling through the air. The papers scream out the medal success and the BBC is covering the events with impressive graphics and statistics. Somehow, numbers always seem more fun when put in the context of statistics. And while the triumph of Team GB is being celebrated with typical British restrain, there is the odd momentary lapse in the self control when they gleefully point out that the Aussies are lower down in the medal tally. London 2012.The arena for greater sporting glory for Team GB and ..India.
While the British Olympians cannot be denied their moment of glory, it must also be pointed out to outstanding facilities and infrastructure that’s available to not just promising athletes, but also each and every citizen in the UK. There is a system to nurture sporting talent at grassroots level and therefore , such sterling results are the logical conclusion. But the triumph of Sushil Kumar and Vijendra Singh, not forgetting Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore and Abhinav Bindra, are different. While the teams of USA, China, Britain (among others) had the infrastructure, training programmes, equipments,etc, our Indian sportsmen had nothing but hope ; hope that stems from true Deewar style and you can almost hear our guys growl out like Vijay(Amitabh Bachchan) , ‘ Humare pass Ma hain’. They trained, struggled and worked hard, learning to fight not just the opponents, but also the system. Theirs was a lonely campaign for glory and their success was scripted by the unflinching support from families, coach or random benefactors. The success of our Indian Olympians is the triumph of the human spirit, in the true tradition of the Olympics.
India is on the threshold of becoming an economic superpower, competing to face the might of USA and China. And the day has come when we are testing the sporting waters and starting to write success stories in the small towns and villages of the country. Is this the start of a new revolution? I certainly hope so. We have it in us to make it big – so, why not ?
For now, let us enjoy the fruits of success and shower our praise on those among us who made us proud. Abhinav Bindra must surely be happy with the free lifetime airconditioned train pass rewarded to him…..

Bharat Kumar does sue sue

‘Bollywood yesteryear star, Manoj Kumar has gone to court again against the makers of Om Shanti Om. This time he has charged Shah Rukh Khan with cheating and defamation’

Read More here.

Bharat Kumar (a.k.a 1 Manoj Kumar and a.k.a.2 Harikishan Giri Goswami) is angry.

And he has a right to be angry.

Today, on the 15th of Aug, as the country celebrates Independence day and there is a palpable sense of patriotism amidst the hot and humid days of late summer, Bharat Kumar, who popularised celluloidal patriotism, decided to sue the makers of Om Shanti Om. Bharat Kumar, who from Kranti to Clerk, exalted the feeling of patriotism in all those tired souls who ventured to the cinema halls for some relaxed moments after a hard day's work, but instead found themselves reeled in waves of patriotism, the effect of which was undoubtedly disconcerting. Where they expected to furtively enjoy the mesmerizing and lithe movements of Helen, responding to her calls of 'Aaja aaja', they found themselves being told about ‘Mere desh ki dharti’. Where they expected Amitabh Bachchan teach badies like Shani Seth a lesson in Kaalia, they found Bharat Kumar singing patriotic songs (Kadam kadam badhaye jaa in Clerk) tp save his father, Ashok Kumar from a massive heart attack. Alone, he was the Mary Poppins of India and solely undertook the responsibility of saving the Indian people from moral degradation through Hindi cinema, attacking the system from within it. Being denied a burqa by virtue of his gender, he took to covering his face with his hands. As time went on and heroines less than half his age refused to sing ‘Bharat mata ki jai’ songs with him , he joined the Shiv Sena and spearheaded the movement to stop youths celebrating Valentine’s Day and such other displays of unwarranted love. Love should be for Bharat Mata, not Matilda.

We owe it to him for organisations like Kannada Rakshana Vedike which are now raiding the parties in Bangalore and making weekends a much more somber affair, more in line with ‘Indian Culture’, a culture for which they are the self appointed moral guardians.

Vedike activists actually raided a rave party in the outskirts of Bangalore. But the police were called in almost two hours later."Today's youth are ruining tradition and culture. They do not know anything about our tradition and culture. They are falling prey to these intoxicants and have no idea about our culture," says Shivarame Gowda, president KRV.The Kannada Rakshana Vedike looks at the dance ban and the 11:30 pm deadline as a way of protecting Kannada culture against western influences. Read more here.

And Shah Rukh Khan makes a mockery of such an esteemed personality ? Tut,tut Badshah Khan !!

Hence, the patriotic-hand-covering-face-dharti-putra-Bharat Kumar is angry and therefore he has sought the legal course to seek redressal. Mr. Bharat Kumar does sue…sue…

Olympian Thanks - to one and all

Our one in a billion golden boy arrived back to the country today and the media coverage went a bit frenzy, justifiably so, in making up for ignoring Abhinav Bindra and his likes before their sterling achievements demanded the bytes to be diverted away from cricket. At this moment, which comes but rarely in history, we must pause to thank all those who made this historic moment possible for us.

Firstly, Suresh Kalmadi , President of the Indian Olympic Association ( hence, obviously a member of the tribe of politicians), who was ‘honoured for his contribution towards the Olympic movement and for promoting Olympic sports in India’ much before Abhinav Bindra even started his Olympic journey. As part of his contribution, he and his fellow Babus ensured that the Indian shooters overcome insurmountable odds to perfect their game. A basic requirement for shooters is that they need ammunition to practice and our efficient bureaucracy saw to it that this was denied to them, so the shooters had to fire blank shots. What And of course, when the real bullets were given, Abhinav hit the bulls eye. Thanks Mr Kalmadi,and the all the Babus who contributed in ways beyond the comprehension of a layman like me.

Thanks should also go to the vast contingent of officials who accompany the sportspersons in every Olmpic games. Cynics like me think that its just a nice jaunty rewarded for the IOA votes and funded by the taxpayers. But no, you all ensure that every sportsperson has to fight for getting an opportunity to play in the game. If the numbers don’t add up since the Chinese were strict with their official passes, knock out a sportsperson on some pretext or the other. Monika Devi, falsely accused of doping for failing a drug test that is not even considered meeting standard requirements, surely made the way for some Mr. Joshi’s wife to go along as Vegetarian food advisor for the athletes.

Thanks to Sachin Tendulkar, Mahi, Dada, Harbhajan Singh who slaps a few mates once in a while, Sreesanth who dances and cries equally randomly and other sporting heroes who grab the attention of the nation and advise them on all aspects of life through numerous ads 24/7, for allowing the reticent Mr Bindra and others like him to quietly concentrate on their game and be the best in the world.

Thanks to Mr Rajnikant, Big B Bachchan and all other celluloid heroes who showed that it is possible to defy normal principles of physics and shoot from impossible angles to hit the targets bang on. A single shot rushing out from the hero’s gun can render many baddies helplessly dead and such images must have sowed the seeds of dreaming to fire such perfect shots in the young and impressionable minds of Abhinav Bindra, Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore and others. They dared to dream the impossible and hence, today we are celebrating such success.


The Sports Minister, MS Gill has thanked and congratulated himself and all Indians in an interview on NDTV 24x7 ("I congratulate myself and every other Indian."). I accept this unquestioningly. Yes, Mr Gill, thanks to you and us. But why ? Ah well, we will deal with such minor issues at leisure.

Last, but not the least, thanks to Mrs Sonia Gandhi, just because..erm…just because…erm…just because…..

At last, an Olympic triumph for India

At long last, something that we all have been waiting for so long – Abhinav Bindra brings home the first ever individual Olympic Gold medal for India. Its been a very long wait indeed, but finally, we have managed to grab the elusive gold medal in the Games which is unique in its rich history and ethos, where recognition of being the best in one’s individual discipline is the reward, rather than the size of the prize money. Well done, Abhinav Bindra !!

The Olympics have a special place among all sporting events of the world, overcoming time and history, to carry on a tradition that celebrates the triumph of the human spirit. What started off in one of the world’s greatest civilizations, Greece, eluded another equally great civilization,India, for so long. Yes, we did win the gold in Hockey for a few years, but never in history did we win an individual Gold. We came close, but never quite have the golden finish.

Ironically, this was the first ever Olympics when India did not qualify for Hockey, a game where we were gold medalist, but which is now fast losing its grip on the nation’s sporting interest. Needless to say, cricket is a national obsession and while it captures the attention of the entire spectrum of Indian society, there were these individuals who were determined to go off the beaten track and take a shot at some other sports. As the spaghetti top clad Mandira Bedi tutored the layman on events in/off and around the cricket field and ex-cricketers addressed the purist viewers at the other end of the spectrum, cricketers themselves became demi gods with temples sprouting up in nooks and corners of the country hosting a few demented minds with fertile imagination. Money rolled in and surely as the bees followed honey, cricket attracted the politicians and business men and we had people like Sharad Pawar or Jagmon Dalmiya at the helm of affairs, all wanting to have a bite of the money pie. And yet, there were a few individuals who defied the popular hype and carved their own path. Tennis – Leander Paes, Mahesh Bhupathi, Sania Mirza. Badminton – Prakash Padukone, Golf – Jeev Milka Sing. Athletics – Milka Singh. Just to name a few. And Rajyvardhan Singh Rathore proved in Athens’04 that we can make it to the podium in the Olympics as well. Abhinav Bindra followed this and went a step further to claim the Gold medal. The tiranga flew proudly and the strains of Jana Gana Mana rippled as the whole of India sat up to take notice of this young man who was never heard of before.

China proved to the western world that the silk route will definitely be a major highway for economic activities in the years to come. It announced its arrival as a major super-power, especially to the western world who hold a patronizing view of the east as remnants of a colonial past. Tibet was on everybody’s mind, except perhaps Larky Sarky ( the French President, who wanted to be away from the hassles of Presidential duties at the opening ceremony and be with his wife in a Med beach), yet the political stances bowed down to commerce and everybody was in attendance as the Games opened in Beijing. India too is on her way to claim the rightful place in history and what better way to knock on destiny’s door than winning a gold at this historical event ? For long have we suffered the humiliation of being one of the most populous country of the world, but not winning a single individual medal.

But will this win actually encourage youngsters to develop interest in non-cricketing sports ? Will other sports even survive the onslaught of cricket in the domain of public interest ? Will we, as a nation of cricket lovers, merely look at this win as an interruption from normal cricket frenzy ? An interesting piece of news in Mid-day indicates how deep the cricket malaise is.Read more. The fact the BCCI has applauded Abhinav Bindra is as relevant as Mimoh mentioning that he wanted to be a NASA scientist before deciding to follow in his father’s dancing footsteps Read here..

Abhinav Bindra proved the triumph of an individual and we, as individuals, should also encourage, motivate and develop interests in other sports. Only then, can we hope for better medal tally at events like the Olympics and celebrate the success of our nation at such events.
Maybe then, the world too will also recognize us as a nation bound together by a sense of national pride and our President and Prime Minister are invited to attend the opening ceremony and not Mrs. Sonia Gandhi as this time in Beijing. She does not represent our nation. The President or the Prime Minister does. Surprised - read here, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Opinion/Editorial/LEADER_ARTICLE_Sending_A_Wrong_Signal/articleshow/3349289.cms

HCI, London - my tryst with Babudom

A necessary interruption to daily existence is the requirement of certain bureaucratic intervention in essential matters like birth, death, tax, travel, among others and I too found myself compelled to visit the great Indian Babudom; despite being far away from India. I had to visit the High Commission of India, London.
India House is a beautiful building in the fashionable West End of London and I reached there, innocently unaware of the experience that awaited me. Since there was no visible entrance , and making the right presumption that the awe inspiring front entrance was not for the likes of me, I looked around and my suspicions of a general preference for Backdoor Entry being the normal route to all entries, from temple to the medical school, were proved right when I spotted a little side door. As I tried to ascertain that I was not rushing into anybody’s basement flat, a voice beckoned me from behind ‘Hello-madam-hello’ transporting me immediately to the familiarity of the great Indian Chowkidaars who are the gatekeepers to not just the Indian Officialdom, but our fate and fortune at the hands the members of this esteemed tribe. I was transported to the world where the rules of existence were different. A world , where you were treated with respect or disdain in equal measure, directly proportional to the proximity that you can demonstrate to the tribal chiefs, otherwise the biggies of babudom.
Having re-acquainted myself with this world once again, right in the heart of London, I was initially a bit numb by a sense of deja-vu, till the authorative voice of the doorman asked me to cross a wooden frame, supposedly a security check. I was reminiscing the several wooden frames that I have crossed back home, proving that I was no security threat and often wondered the effectiveness of passing by uninterested pan chewing female guards, cruelly clad in khaki trousers displaying the abundance of flat in all the wrong areas, in case any bombs crossed the barrier. Just as I was unconsciously falling prey to such misgivings, I tripped in the threads of a carpet and launched myself into a great big hall.
The centerstage of all activities.
There were big wooden paneled boxes that were last seen in Hollywood movies of the 30s but instead of some cigar chewing sheriffs behind the counters, there was nobody in those cubicles of power – the individual little fiefdoms of those lower down the babu hierarchy. It was an extended lunch time. One of the many waiting in the halls decided to inform having guessed from my looks that I was still getting accustomed to the whole experience of being in India, but still not yet there. The walls of the halls had a series of posters with glimpses of India, if you can separate the dust from the Technicolor images which I recognized immediately from the re-prints I have seen everywhere where the Babu decorator was allowed to leave his trademark – from the walls of the Airports, to the Rajdhanis to the Tourism board offices. Anticipating a long wait, I gingerly made way to some multicolored plastic chairs that were lined thoughtfully for the sake of all visitors, but just as someone got up from her seat, the person on the other end nearly fell off in a see-saw effect. Balance. Like everything in life, we in India, have a strong sense of balance, be it reality shows vs the K serials or the mere plastic chairs which were welded together in sets of 3 and would remain steady only through balanced distribution of weight it supported.
We were given numbers, as in Macdonald’s, but there were no electronic displays of token numbers and so there was a crowd in front of the paneled window where we had to await our turn, which finally arrived for me. As I made my way and was awaiting the completion of necessary procedures, I noticed something not commonly in London, if you discount the graffitis. Scribbles. Those that proclaimed ‘Jitu was here, 08/08/07’, ‘Sitha I love you’, ‘Raj + Lina’,etc. Something that I have seen everywhere and often wondered if it was an intrinsic act programmed in all Indians, the urge to leave our mark on time, albeit in reverse-literally sense. The urge to demonstrate our love for someone or just state simply that so-and-so was there. Is it the same urge that drives Mayawati to order statues of her in all nooks and corner of Uttar Pradesh (for now and rest of India, if ever such a day came) ? Is it the same urge that makes any politician worth his name lay down the foundation stone of buildings that never come up, but the stones remain as mute bearers of the names of those who had the power to lay them in marble ? Maybe.
As I was wondering all these, I was presented with yet another integral object of the Babudom – the files. Yes. Proper environment friendly, recyclable paper files with little bits of strings that hold the papers together. Something that is not easily seen in this part of the world,but which is an object that holds the key to all things in Babudom. How often had I heard tales of the rates of bribe that is needed to make the file move from one desk to another ? How often I have marveled at the power behind these seemingly innocent pieces of paper wherein lies great powers that determine the case history of every incident that was reported in Babudom ? I was glad that such files were still in existence and that they made their way across the seven seas to the banks of the Thames.
But as soon as my work was done, the lady serving me gave me a broad smile and I thanked her. Not just being overwhelmed by the experience of being in India, but not yet there, but also for the genuine way in which we greet each other back home. Unlike the crisp, uniformed and unfeeling way in which you are asked ‘Hi, how are you’ by the person serving you in any bank or any other place in the West, we Indians smile genuinely and greet each other from the bottom of our heart. Swept away with such warmth, I walked away from the HCI, London bidding a bye to the surprised safari-suit clad doorman, back to the hustle bustle of an ordinary London life.

News Garam

I often wonder what goes behind the scenes of compiling news items which appear to assault us from all sides in these days of information revolution. Who decides what is newsworthy and what’s the readership to whom the news is to be catered for ? A general scan of the electronic and print media gives an idea of the wide spectrum of such news items in these days when there is a compelling need to snatch the attention from the mouse pointers of the surfers who peek into the internet in between ‘breaks’ at work or such other pursuits.
Like many others, as I was surfing, some random news items that caught my attention one of which is ‘Pamela spends a million on her undies. Undeniably, the combination of all the words in this simple sentence , Pamela – million – undies, is enough for the brain to send a lightning signal to click the link and read more. Why ? Simply for curiosity’s sake; the same curiosity that killed the cat. Was the subject in question ever renowned for her modest appearance that warranted such investment. If she wore as little as Sonia Gandhi speaks, then where were all the money spent ? Is it a case of Emperor’s new clothes and she paid for exposing the Eve in her ?I remained as baffled as ever, but like many things in life, I just moved on; till I stumbled into the next that left me more confused than ever – ‘Shoes that transform into sandals’ . After the bizarre Crocs, which look like a plastic blob being shot by a country gun ‘Made in Chambal’ am I supposed to wear this hideously mutated footwear that can be unzipped and worn in a way more suitable to a scene from Harry Potter ? The footwear are a German invention and suspecting a general affliction of innovativeness in the German air, I should probably point out this ingenious design to Amma and other lady politicians who cover up such fears capes more suited to those inclined to renounce the world and opt for the confines of a monastery. Unlike the others, this can probably be a news item that can find many more interested takers in the form of some bosom budies of ladies in power.
Some news items focus on useful bits of information which I can use for tactical advantage in any verbal duel that may arise between me and members of those from Mars – Ten things that make blokes cry. I can’t agree more with Item 4; its as genuine as the example cited. But interesting..hmm…nothing for the wife that moves these guys to tears. Point to be noted.
I can probably go on and on, but there enough newsbytes there to make one an accumulator of some odd bits of information that I may end up never using in my life, but still, I waver, ponder and read them just the same.
I remember those days of yore when the newspaper swished into our mornings to be relished with a cup of tea with news items that were as dry as Sushma Swaraj’s sense of humour but yet we would all clamour to be the first one to read it – mostly the TV programmes and Phantom comic strips. The news items would be random – five point programmes, inauguration of a railway gate, and such others; mostly centering around the politicians who were the flavour of the day. But yet, nostalgia compels me to view it with a kaleidoscopic image of a more innocent age – an age when I recall my Dad exclaiming out aloud that Kishore Da is no more. On his birthday today, I like many of his fans, am grateful that he came into our lives and filled it with melodious memories and he lives on through his evergreen songs.