One of the more interesting benefits of working in the media business is the great joy of reading through in(s)ane press releases everyday. If you thought that what you saw on TV or read in your paper was ludicrous, then you have no idea how lucky you are.
For every morning our inboxes are flooded with press releases that range from the completely stupid to the astronomically nincompoopish.

But I am not going to harp all over that because I was in the receipt of a rather interesting notice in the email last evening which I must share with you. It was crafted by the wonderful people at IBN7 and was an e-flyer for one of their Independence day hoopla television programmes.

This is the image after much cutting and pasting and resizing:

Of course I don’t have a problem with the spirit of the idea. Independence Day is a great time that we should all celebrate and why should TV channels be any different. And if there is a profit motive then thats even better.

The main text of the mailer is as follows:

“On this occasion of Independence Day, IBN7 brings you an array of programmes showcasing India’s journey through glorious 60 years. Relive the moments that have made us strong, proud and humble.”

No issues with any of those things. I had just read though the mailer and was all set it to consign it to by Trash when I noticed the interesting graphic in the bottom right hand corner. Look closely.

Hay! Wait a goddamn minute there!

Haven’t I seen that somewhere before?

And so I had!

Now the Google Image Search went wrong for IBN7 in two ways.

First of all the IBN7 graphic is ripped off the US Marine Corps War Memorial located in Virginia. It is one of the few places where the Stars and Stipes is permitted to be flown 24 hours a day.

And that’s not all. The Memorial itself is based on an immensely famous photo taken on Mount Suribachi during the Battle for Iwo Jima during WW2. (Fantastic battle. Uncle Eastwood made two outstanding movies about it. Made money and won awards.)

And the icing on the cake is the missing chakra on the Indian flag.

Sure lets relive the moments that made us strong, proud and humble. By all means.

But ripping off someone else’s crowning war moment is a bit much.

No?

With all this frequent referencing to Pastrami here it is easy to think that I have only one friend in all of Mumbai, i.e. Pastrami. But this is not true at all.
I have at least one more: the great Chipolata BSc. LLB.

Chipolata is this wonderful and most lively woman who is party animal by night, top notch lawyer by day and, all too rarely, an inventive email composer as we will soon see.

So earlier tonight we were all chilling out at that Barista behind Lilavathi when Pastrami mentioned an email of Chipolata’s that had become quite the rage in the legal circles some months ago. It was, actually, a harmless invitation to watch a cricket match at her place. But, once Chipolata had wielded here adept lawyerly skills at it, it became this funny as hell masterpiece:

(Whatay warning: Whereas anyone with a prior exposure to legal documentation will enjoy hereunder email and others may not but then I don’t care and you can hiterto kiss my whereas.)

Dear All,

This email (the “Email“) is with reference to the upcoming match between India and Sri Lanka (the “Match“) as a part of the Cricket World Cup 2007 (the “Cup“) being held in the Caribbean.

Those marked on the Email (collectively referred to as the “Parties” and individually referred to as the “Party“) are considered the poor souls who are either (i) don’t really care about the game; and/or (ii) are too poor to go to the Caribbean for some sun and games; and/or (iii) are to lazy to make the effort for the same; and/or (iv) know that India is not going to win the Cup and therefore what’s the point!; and/or (v) have the money but are misers; and/or (vi) are buried under work (Yea right!); (vii) all other reasons not covered in the foregoing paragraph.

NOW THERFORE in consideration of the mutual covenants and agreements set forth herein and for other good and valuable consideration, the receipt and adequacy of which is hereby acknowledged by the Parties, this email witnesseth and the Parties to the Email agree as follows:

1. The Proposal

1.1 It is proposed that Parties meet to watch the Match and generally enjoy the company of each other at a time, date and venue set out herein below.

1.2 The Match is scheduled to start at 5:00 pm (1700 hours) Indian Standard Time (“IST“) on March 23, 2007. However, Parties agree that since the said date is a business day and all Parties are required to attend their respective offices, the Parties shall gather at a mutually agreed venue (the “Venue“) at a time confirmed by all Parties via return email to this email. The proposed time is 9:00 IST (2100 hrs) subject to confirmation from all Parties.

1.3 Majority of the Parties work in Town (for the purposes of this email Town shall mean the Western length of Mumbai (excluding Navi Mumbai) from Colaba to Parel) and therefore it is proposed that the Venue be in Town. However, if Parties mutually agree that Bandra West, then the Venue shall be shifted to Bandra West.

1.4 This entire Clause 1 is subject to confirmation of the Parties. All confirmations for Clause 1 shall be governed by the procedure set out in Clause 4 of this Email.

2. Bets

All bets, wagers of any kind must be placed before the Match begins, for avoidance of doubt it is clarified that 5:00 pm (1700 hrs) IST shall be taken as the beginning of the Match. It is further clarified that the all bets and wagers may be in the form of cash and/or kind. For the purposes of this Clause bets, wagers of any kind in “kind” shall have the meaning of wagers of goods and not of services.

3. Third Party

3.1 If any Party is desirous of inviting a Third Party, it may do so at its own accord and discretion (the “Inviting Party“).

3.2 The Inviting Party shall be solely responsible for informing the other Parties and the Originator (as defined hereinbelow).

3.3 The Inviting Party warrants that in the event such a Third Party arrives at the Venue and watches the Match with the other Parties, there shall be no blood shed.

3.4 The Inviting Party further warrants and represents that any Third Party so invited shall be bound by this email.

4. Notices

All Notices with respect to the Email shall be marked to all Parties via return email and the same shall be the preferred mode of communication. In the event, a Party is unable to communicate with the other Parties via email, he or she, as the case maybe, shall communicate by means of sms (smart messaging service) or phone calls (telecons). It is clarified that all phone calls shall be routed to the Party’s mobile phone and the use of office phones is strictly prohibited. In the case of an emergency, the use of public phones is allowed.

5. This Email

The Email constitutes and represents the entire email between the Parties on the subject matter hereof and supersedes and cancels all prior emails, agreements, arrangements or understandings, oral or written, between the Parties on the subject matter of the Email.

6. Governing Law

The Email shall be governed by common law principles of good faith, friendship, equity and all such things.

7. Dispute Resolution

If any and all disputes arising out of this mail, they shall be referred to the originator of the email (the “Originator“). The decision of the Originator shall be final and binding on all Parties.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF the Parties have executed this Email the day and year so appearing hereinabove.

Regards,

Chipolata

English Version: Tomorrow when everyone gets off lets meet for dinner, drinks, the match and company at a place agreed amongst all. (GAVAARS if you didn’t understand the above email and had to read this to understand it!)

Bravo! Bravo Chipolata!

Around two months ago I was slyly tagged to this Eight Random Facts Meme type thing by my dear friend Pikey. After many weeks of research I have finally arrived upon those eight all important publicizable facts. But before that, as convention demands, I recap the rules of this particular blog leisure activity:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
3. At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
4. If you fail to do this within eight hours, you will not reach Third Base or attain your most precious goals for at least two more lifetimes.

Now for the juicy paparazzi bits:

1. I never always had the partition in my hair this way you know. Oh no. ten years ago I switched sides. I was lefty till then. And then I went to the right. Especially because my old toothpick injury was beginning to grow into a rather largish hairless spot above my right brow. So one day, after a shower, I picked up my comb and did a Narayanamurthy. And, amazingly just as I suspected, it did nothing to improve my thing with the ladies.

(Spot the profound metaphor in the above startling fact…)

2. Which brings us to the toothpick. I had one go into my head. I was lounging around on the living room floor reading a Gulf News weekend issue. My brother was watching the WWF. This was in the bad old days when wrestling was less about marketing and more about the real things that mattered: multiple compound fractures. In a frenzy brought on by Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant my brother climbed onto the coffee table and leapt on to my back. Just moments before I had fished out an old toothpick from under the sofa. Wham, bam, thank you for the huge plaster bro!

3. The first person who gets to read everything I write is the wifey. No two ways about that. With merely a flick of her eyebrow she can banish a post to hell or give it HTML/CSS life! So if you read clangers on this blog once in a while it is probably because I did not listen to her. Somehow she has a thing for these things.

Now if only she would develop a taste for seafood.

4. I still don’t have a driving license. I have been to three schools and tried to get it three times in the last 12 years. But something always conspires against it. Of course I can drive in the broad which-pedal-is-which-and-do-not-drive-over-people-except-near-Dadar-Kabutarkhana-where-honestly
-anything-goes sense But for now the missus ferries me around. If she feels like chilling at home so do I.

5. I almost joined Mumbai International Airport as an employee. In fact I was just one day away from it. So instead of whiling away time with scantily clad members of Airline Cabin Crew and travelling cheap, I now get to proof read and send out team emails detailing out JAM’s official policy on the number of ellipsis permitted in one 300-word article. (Three.)

6. I am not half bad an actor. In fact I was quite the thespian in school. When December came the teachers began preparing for the Christmas play. But little did they need to worry about Shepherd No. 4. That was my forte. I once even had a line to speak on stage:

“Psst Shepherd No. 3! Your fake goat prop is really invading my personal space with those fake plastic horns if you know what I mean…”

7. The only author I have read every book of is Martin Cruz Smith. His latest is out: “Stalin’s Ghost”. Not his best. But not his worst either. Its somewhat of a Chekov meets a Lustbader meets a National Geographic winter photoessay type genre. Russian protagonist with a remarkable lack of hope for humanity. Delightful.

8. To reiterate something I said that caused a furore many moons ago:

I dislike Pink Floyd.

I used to hate them once upon a time. But then I mildly like the Division Bell album and so I moved my rating up to dislike. As an engineer who used to have his fair share of bucket parties I understand that this is a disgrace. So wait till you here this:

I like Bon Jovi.

And to rub things in:

I have NEVER heard anything by Megadeth ever.

So there. Those are 8 wonderful things you know about me. Now as per the rules of the game I tag Fungus, Raven, Megha, Sayesha, Vinod, Indiequill, Kaaliya and (fingers crossed) Barack Obama.

Now I know its a longshot and that he is a really busy man but with just the right amount of peer pressure I am pretty sure Fungus will do it.

Cheerio and see you all later today.

(Latest newspaper column. Not bad at all.)
I can’t tell you how excited I am to write this fortnight’s column.

See the thing is normally, one or two days before my column is due, I am sitting at home and pulling my hair out. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this but writing humour is tough. And writing humour from the wonderful world of business is doubly so.

To be honest the world of business isn’t really a frolicsome hotbed of humour article ideas. Business is, in fact, only marginally more interesting than those old taped cricket matches you have at home that were fondly recorded many years ago and watched once, at best, and have now become populated with fungii colonies so large that I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a Big Bazaar and an ICICI BANK ATM in there somewhere.

I have friends in the stock trading, M&A, Corporate banking and allied sectors and what distinguishes them from normal people, apart from monthly salary slips that have an index and several footnotes, is a uniformly underdeveloped sense of humour.

Let me explain by ‘cracking’ a joke representative of the banker type:

Banker A: So dude, why did the chicken cross the road?

Banker B: I don’t know man…

Banker A: Because of an inverted yield curve and a strengthening dollar!!!

Banker B: Oh! HA HA Oh my! Oh! Good god! Too much! Stop that right now! Phew! You are good bro!

Banker A: I KNOW!
I didn’t get it at the time either. But you get the picture yes? Looking for veins of humour in these parts is pretty pitiful.

So I was just about to get into one of my weekend ‘Sid Says’ funks, desperately looking for inspiration, when the missus emailed me about a recent consultant report that had she had heard about.

Compared to Consultants, Bankers are a total hoot.

Consultants have little time for humour. They are in a mad rush from project to project helping companies achieve significant improvements to topline and bottomline through complex methodologies including, and not limited to, ‘making slides with animation of trucks’ and ‘expensing minibar usage’.

If you ever get invited to a party with consultants it may be advisable to, beforehand, do a root canal on yourself with a tea spoon to get in the mood.

So boy was I surprised when I read the report my wife had pointed me to. The report by one of the biggest names in global consulting, which I will only refer to as McChickensey & Co., goes out to highlight a terrible evil that threatens to have dire economic impact on companies:

Hiring of Strategic Management Consultants.

Ha! I jest.

No, what they actually said was that companies had to pay a heavy price if they hired, retained and refused to remove ‘jerks‘.

According to the report ‘jerks’ are people in a company who are ‘nasty and demeaning’ to other employees.
Now I know what you are thinking: “Hey! That’s like everyone in our top management team!”
And for thinking like that I am appalled at you!

You forgot HR and Accounts.

Now this column has a duty to its readers: all the young managers out there. We have pledged to educate them about the truths of the business world and warn them against misinformation and rumours.

Therefore I need to tell all of your right now this simple rhyming message:

“Be one of the jerks, become a CEO, get all the perks, this rhymes ayayyo”

In that one line I have encapsulated a life time of learning, experience and hands-on achievement by people like Jack Welch and Winston Churchill.

Let us look through the annals of world history.

So what are all the sobriquets we often hear? Bismarck the Iron Duke, Ivan the Terrible, Alexander the Great, Peter the Great, Richard the Lionheart, William the Conqueror, Winnie the Pooh and Vadukut the Tremendously Gifted As A Satire Columnist to name but a few.

Have you ever heard of a Jonathon the Polite, Frederick the Excellent Behaver with Subordinates, Paul the Teamworker or Manoj Kumar the Balanced Performance Evaluator?

Exactly my point!

In the real world there is no place for the meek and mild and tender. And so it is in the world of business. Success in the young manager’s world goes to him who is aggressive, focused and ruthless. A tiny teensy bit of ruth is all that it takes to drop you from the giddy heights of success to the just-about-ends-meeting depths of middle management mediocrity.

Now to justify all these points and aspects very clear let me tell you why, briefly, being a jerk is not just a good thing, but a prerequisite for managerial success.

Listen carefully:

Nice bosses empower their subordinates, give them much freedom and let them chart their own workplans.

Nice Boss: Sidin we need to get this report done by tomorrow!

Sidin: But I need to take my family out for a long weekend vacation…

Nice Boss: Oh ok! Let me work on it then…

So while his conscience may be clear the nice boss is just going to walk around vacuuming up on himself other people’s project work like a first year engineering student in a final year hostel.

On the other hand let us look at the go-getting jerk boss:

Jerk Manager: Sidin we need to get this report done by tomorrow!

Sidin: But I need to take my family out for a long weekend vacation…

Jerk Manager: Oh I see! Let me arrange some interviews then…

This way the jerk boss has translated the company objectives into a very clear and powerful personal deliverable for the employee: remaining solvent.

Now that’s what I call motivation.

The next thing is that nice guy managers spend a lot of time in meetings trying to get his point across and making decisions:

Nice Manager: So I was thinking that we could try implementing SAP before the CRM suite…

Sidin: But I don’t completely agree…

Nice Manager: Oh and why is that?

Sidin: See if you look at the long term financial implications of a sequenced rollout program…

As you can sense this meeting is going to go all night and will probably end in ‘road maps’, ‘transition presentations’, ‘gap analyses’, ‘due diligences’, ‘phased rollouts’, a pizza dinner, and a decision to meet again the next day.

Jerk Manager: So I was thinking that we could try implementing SAP before the CRM suite…

Sidin: But I don’t completely agree…

Jerk Manager: Oh I don’t care. And, to reiterate, !@#$% you too!

Sidin: But from where I am coming is … OWWW… who threw that stapler at me???!!!!

Jerk Manager: La la la… whistle whistle… la la…

Thus jerk-managed meetings happen quickly and easily and this can only mean better profits and returns for the company.

Similarly jerk managers get better bonuses by:

a. passing on less to the team driving them to achieve ever more, they maintain high attrition levels thereby keeping the company always flush with fresh ideas,

b. keeping their subordinates uncomfortable and insecure thus fighting that great virus of corporate excellence: complacency and,

most importantly, they infuse the company with a sense of good-hearted resilience and verve.

So if you ask me jerkdom is really the way to go.

You may have a differing opinion of course, but then this is all I have to say:

!@#$%% you!

The other night I met up with Pastrami at this Copper Chimney in Worli. The one just down the road from the Food Court with all the Shops, Atria Mall.
“Man whats happening with the test match…” he idly wondered while I silently sipped on a long, cool Kingfisher pint.

As I have stated many many times on this blog I am not really that big a cricket fan. Of course I love it when wonderful things happen like Dwayne Leverock or random spontaneous coach slapping. But otherwise I indifferently flip past the cricket channels.

But this was not an opportunity to be missed! So what if I did not like cricket? I had to show him my GPRS!

“Wait one moment Pastrami!!!”, I muttered politely so as not to upset that upper middle class restaurant ambience, “let me check on my GPRS enabled Sony Ericcson P990i mobile ph… I mean smartphone…”

The P990i was my latest value-for-money gizmo.

I have this philosophy of, among many other things, buying gadgest and gizmos. Now make no mistake, I would love to own the latest in gadget coolness. If I could, I would buy the iPhone. I have no qualms about saying that. But the thing is this freelance writing, magazine editing lifestyle cannot afford such lascivious pleasures. So I work on this principle called ‘phased lag purchasing’, i.e. buying a gadget as soon as something new has come and made it technically obsolete.

By then prices have fallen, bugs have been ironed out and the customer service guys have the spare parts for it when I sit on it/drive over it/pour beer on it.

“What?! You bought that aged monstrosity? Pshaw!”

“Whaddaya mean aged! Its the flag ship Sony phone man!” I protested. “Also you have to pay for dinner…”

“Of course I will dear friend… but till it is nothing compared to my Blackberry Curve…”

He reached into his pant pockets to pull out his Blackberry.

(Pause to ruminate on that unwitting pun.)

But I immediately pressed a few buttons and powered up my web browser. I must get the match scores before his Blackberry! I must! My manhood demands it!

“Go on, try all you can. My Curve will beat the crap out of that chunky piece of obsolete miniature electronics…”

Thumb! Thumb! Scroll! Scroll!

“Oh yeah?!” I retorted weekly

“Oh yeah!” He bellowed with restraint so as to not to trouble an adjacent table of what looked like auditors going by the way they were splitting the bill: “Yes but alcohol has separate VAT rates you know…”

“We are losing the match. Just two wickets to go!” I screamed triumphantly mildly startling people around with unintended unpatrioticity. (Dispatriotism?)

Triumph! Blackberry Curve my foot. Go P990i go!

“Whatever dude! I was checking my push mail. You’ve heard of push email haven’t you?”

Pastrami was beginning to play dirty.

Of course, when you think about it, it was hardly a fair fight from the very beginning. His Curve was an office perk. Mine was bought after fighting through the crowds at Alfa in Irla market. I had to beat some of them away with my old Nokia phone. Connecting people on their temples and all that.

So really any way this worked out, in the end I would be the victor. At least in spirit.

But then it dawned on me. The P990i has push mail. And more!

We paused while nibbling on some starters and sipping on iced tea.

“Oh yes I have push mail. This phone has that. But I don’t need it. I just use the Gmail application I downloaded and configured… Ha!… by the way excellent hara bara kebabs no?”

“Exquisite… You get Gmail on your phone?”

Mine was a masterful counter-attack. Not unlike the Dragon variant of the Sicilian Defence. Pastrami could afford anything he wanted. But fiddling with the technology in his gadgets was just not his cup of tea.

“Oh and did I tell you I have a 2 mega pixel phone??!!…” I jabbed.

Smirk. Smirk.

“Hmm… you have a camera eh?” Pastrami said.

He didn’t.

“Indeed. I just snapped a shot of that kaali daal. Want me to bluetooth it to you?”

I was piling it on. He had bluetooth I guess. But how to activate with one hand! (His other holding one small piece of kofta precariously perched on slice of naan! I had touch screen. Crack scene!)

“I am eating dude. Play fair. Outstanding Kofta. You must try it!”

“I am not going to fall for that one Pastrami! GUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” I gestured to him in a polite manner trying not to raise a scene in the restaurant.

“No seriously. Its good. I’ll finish all of it otherwise.”

“Ok.”

We munched in silence. He ordered those baby gulab jamuns they have at Copper Chimney. We slurped in a sugary fashion.

Then suddenly out of the blue he turned the Blackberry Curve screen towards me and it was playing a full length video of a sitcom.

I was beaten. I had not bought an extra memory stick yet and had no space to carry anything remotely approaching a respectable video.

I went into a quiet funk.

He paid and we walked out.

“My Blackberry Curve kicked your stupid Sony ass writer boy!” he slurred out of the corner of his mouth as we waited for the valet.

While I enjoyed dinner, especially the not paying the bill bit, it was bitter to lose again to the investment banker. He had the money, the lifestyle and now this!

“It’s ok. Don’t take it to heart!” he said as he walked towards his car. “Why don’t you write a funny blog about it? Ha ha ha…”

And then I had a brainwave. I tuned towards him, looked at him face to face and said in a deathly murmur: “But you can’t do THIS can you banker boy?!”

And with that I withdrew my stylus, poked him in the eye and dived into a waiting black and yellow taxi.

And then I wrote a blog about it.

Victory.