I mean business

I have since long had this business plan. Last night I was reading Naren's groundbreaking business plans which started giving me ideas, and in no time I was climbing up the shelves and dusting off this old DPR volume. I've also posted the gist on his comment space. But that doesn't make it his intellectual property now, does it? Feel free to steal, only after paying me my finder's fees, a paltry fifty grands (greenbacks, silly),plus taxes.

Let me, at the outset, clarify that I do not hail from the illustrated state of Bihar. But I've lived in the vicinity long enough to have tasted, on many occasions, a Bihari delicacy called litti-chokha. Recipe here.

Pic source : foodieshope.blogspot.com

I'm sure the downmarket version one may also notice as street food in many big city ghettoes of India infested by Raj Thackerey's favorite cousins. Do note that it makes for an uber-healthy, wholesome vegetarian meal. It can also be made completely cholesterol-free by making the ghee(clarified butter) dip optional.(won't taste the same, of course)

So, here's my business plan :

Product : Microwavable designer litti-chokha

Product description : Spicy baked doughballs in dip(ghee optional) with assorted veggie mishmash

Suggested Brand name : Choklittoes

USP : Wholesome nutrition of wheat grain cereals, gram and assorted vegetables in designer ready-to-eat packaging.

Designer logo : A piece of sal leaf laminated into the wrapper ( OK OK so I borrowed that one)

Target customer : 1. Health and style conscious professional who needs to make a statement with the workaday lunch he eats, preferably in the company of peers.
2. Sucker.

Retail Price : $ 19.95 for a pack of two doughballs with mishmash and dip(ghee optional : packs containing ghee dip will cost $24.95).

Manufacturing : Sourced from Bhojpuri designer litti company of Chhapra, Bihar@ $19.95 per 100-pack carton

Quality Policy : Will tell the Bhojpuri fellows....forget it, they invented quality, right?

Apart from the obvious profitability of the proposition, it will also generate a good deal of employment locally, and hopefully ease some irritation off the Mumbaikar's mind. I'm sure the scheme will find instant support from Nitish Kumar and Laluji.

There's one small catch. Unlike in Guangzhou, China, they do not have an existing facility for every manufacturing need at Chhapra. A small investment of $10000 will be needed to help the chaps set up their packaging unit. Which will pay itself back in a matter of weeks, of course.

Since you people seem to hobnob with a number of VCs, would you consider selling the plan to one of them, for a handsome 2% of the profits?

We're going to miss you, Dubya

"Worldwide there is increasing demand. There turns out to be prosperity in developing world, which is good. It's going to be good for you because you'll be selling products in the countries, you know, big countries perhaps, and it's hard to sell products into countries that aren't prosperous. In other words, the more prosperous the world is, the more opportunity there is,"

This man simply won't cease to entertain. I can't add to the counter-argument. I sort of agree with Subodh Verma on this. But while humorless Indian politicians rage and rant, I can't stop smiling at the phrasing. Really, does somebody write those circular statements for Dubya? Or does he add his own finishing line? In other words, is it a prepared thing, or is it his own personal touch? See, I couldn't write like that if I wanted to?

Many public figures have been known to put a foot in the mouth. This man could easily walk inside his own abdomen. What's the world gonna do for fun when he's gone?

Heavy Duty

This was one heavy weekend. It was shaping up differently at the start, of course. Listening languorously to this favorite rendition of Faiz by Mehdi Hassan saab.

Aaye kuchh abr kuch sharaab aaye
us ke baad aaye jo azaab aaye

baam-e-miinaa se maahtaab utre
dast-e-saaqii meN aaftaab aaye

har rag-e-KhuuN meN phir charaaGhaaN ho
saamne phir wo be-naqaab aaye

kar rahaa thaa Gham-e-jahaaN kaa hisaab
aaj tum yaad be-hisaab aaye

na ga’ii tere Gham kii sardaarii
dil meN yuuN roz inqilaab aaye

is tarah apnii Khamoshii guuNjii
goyaa har simt se javaab aaye

“Faiz” thii raah sar-ba-sar manzil
ham jahaaN pahuNche kaamyaab aaye

Idly wondering how the poetry would read in translation, I looked up for something by Agha Shahid Ali. Couldn't find anything. Not on the net, that is.

With that same laziness I started playing with the first couplet. And got drawn into it. It took up all my leisure these last three days. I'm not particularly proud of the effort. I know I've flayed a golden rule of translating shayari. I shouldn't of gone for rhyming verses. Anyway here's what we did manage.

Let the clouds close in; bring on a bottle of wine, rare

Come hell or high water then, the devil may care.

Moonshine on my cup alights, at brim, the urn'd pare

The enchantress' hand, then, pours me the sun, a-flare.

Let a ray of light race thru’ my veins, burn in desire

Beauty, step out of your veil again, do me ensnare.

Pondering myriad dolors of my life, alone, I declare

My cruel concubine, always on my mind, you were.

The tyranny of your grief, inexorable, hangs in the air

Each day this bleeding heart rises in rebellion, despair.

In the heart of emptiness, echoed a silence as it were

A hush harked back, from here, there and everywhere.

Destination lay in this journey we took, dear Faiz

Success, ours on every step, far as we did dare.

Knowing fully well that this is a pretty lame job, I can't but disclose a small smile of satisfaction from the first verse. Two cliche's packed into one single radeef ! I felt like that MP from Yes, Prime Minister who could " talk in cliche's till the cows come home."

Thanks Aligarians for complete lyrics

P.S. It occurred to me last night. Does the rhyme remind you of Bianca Castafiore's piece de resistance ? OK. OK, never mind.

No news is good news

I live in the land of no-news. Suits me fine, since after living here for almost two decades, I'm slightly afraid of hip-and-happening places. Apart from the absence of globalized marketplaces and entertainment complexes which are so de rigeur for modern city living, I have little to complain about this back-of-beyondness. The no-good surd visited our city just the other day. During his ten-minute speech, we noticed something . That the name of our city had completely escaped his consciousness. He mentioned Jharkhand six times and Jamshedpur, four, but not for once did he utter the name we so wanted to hear, from his lips. I think he didn't learn zis' vaard.

We were a bit depressed at first. Then I saw this cartogram of the US of A. Modified by the quotient of news generated vis-a-vis territory. And realization dawned.

pic courtesy : Strange Maps

Apparently we are in good company. Good company like Topeka, Boise, and Cheyenne, to name just a few. If that sounds incomprehensible, read this. This cartogram, originally from the August 2004 issue of Science News Magazine, where it illustrated an article entitled ‘A Better Distorted View: The Physics of Diffusion Offers A New Way of Generating Maps’. Seems news has a system of redistributing maps. What do you think?

The Surf's rising




I was not always this idle blog surfer who has little else to do to see him through his drab and dreary days and lonely evenings. No siree. Yours truly used to get a little more in the way of amusement, the thrills of life, the rush of adrenaline. In other words, I used to have a life. It's another thing that I never quite learnt the parameters of having a life. Having a career that's fulfilling and rewarding may not be one of them I guess. That'd render so many people lifeless, apart from me. Playing and partying hard may be another indicator. I was never a party person.Been a decade since I last put bat on ball, too.

Besides other unmentionable games I played, I was quite fond of playing the markets. I have a good mind to come back to the unmentionables in another post, but that'll wait. Tonight I'm in a, what's that word? peculiar pecuniary frame of mind.

Once upon a time, I had a very small amount of money. Some monies, if that's what it'd take. Definitely not many monies. I took them to the market. No, not just like that. I'd mostly keep them in my savings account. Where they'd earn a robust 3.5% for most of the year. I'd wait for dips in the market and put some of these into stocks. Sometimes the market would heat up and I'd sell. This went on for about two years. I'd aim for an ambitious 25% p.a. on my net worth, and end up with a promising 11. Not so bad, huh? Prudent investor, that I was.

Then this January, it melted a little. I put in a little. Next day it was dripping. I put in a little more. Then it started to run down the drain. I was in denial. So I put in all I had. They took the shirt off my back and hung it high on their wall and threw me out into the street. Cruel Wall Dalal Street.Then they restricted entry to men without shirts. So that's what brings me here.

Don't let yourself run away with the idea that I'm bitter. I'm not. I'm not trying to whine either. Actually I've completely quit worrying about them small monies. I only ponder sometimes on the BIG monies they're going to bring back. Yeah, that'll be the day.

What I've observed in the interim, however, is a very interesting phenomenon. And that is the crux of this post. I've found out that the art of making a purchase decision gets infinitely easier once you are out of liquidity. I'll elaborate. Let's say we have a dining set which has seen twelve years of wear and tear. I've been getting hints at the home front every now and then. Let's also say my PC has of late started crashing and restarting without provocation. The vendor says it's with this mo-bo. Better get a new machine, sir. All of this going on while I had those some monies in that savings account, remember? But I can't spend it, no? It was earmarked for investment? Then again, is it financially wise to borrow for petty purchases while you have the cash? No. So these decisions were put on hold. All of this past year.

Then one day I didn't have the cash anymore. So wifey falls for that monstrosity in chrome and glass, and I hear myself say, "sure thing, momma." The hardware man yaps about this new pocket-friendly core-2-whatever processors and 2 Gb ram and I say, "why, bring it on!" at the snap of my fingers.

Now that I'm in a debt situation and just about able to breathe with difficulty, I've started to secretly drool over that 42" bravia x-series ( eludes me why Sony should name it like that). Me worry. It's been telling on the last reserves of my prudence.

There's only God to thank, ( and maybe Bernanke, or, Bush, or O'bama, or Chidambaramji, I don't know, whoever deserves my gratitude, kindly accept) I've noticed lately that the surf seems to be rising a little. Which means I can now see my investments lurking like distant shadows below water, as opposed to lying at the bottom of the occean. It gives me a notion of semi-liquidity. Nobody knows if it will hold, but at least now I can hopefully put off my tryst with Sony Inc. for another year.

SRK chromosomes


My dear Kolkata has let me down this evening. Miserably.

The warning signals were there, even before the coin was thrown. As Jadeja handed it over to Rabi Shastri for the toss, the telecast lost video feed. Shastri had a pathetic time doing his opening line twice. Then it become a regular feature of the telecast. Every time the commentator at the box tried to transfer feed to an away location. With only the exception of their fetching PYT ( keep forgetting her name, old age catches up) and her footage. Maybe because hers were recorded video. But I would have blamed it entirely on SET MAX and Kunal Dasgupta. You didn't need to do shoddy work to make quick bucks, people. As it is, you had the mint at your disposal.

Who could one blame those 22 yards on then? Nobody perhaps will argue the fact that the wicket was not suited for any manner of limited overs cricket. Like Ajay Jadeja remarked, " Slow and Low, now how often have we heard that?" For a fifty over match that pitch would be a dampener. For T20, it was bloody murder. The lessons are evidently never learnt.

What Kolkata really shamed me with, though, was the drama over lights that dragged on and on. Till such time smart people in the commentary box suggested invoking D/L and adjudged the match to be a tie. All these would've been standard fair about two decades back. To follow up the grand opening at B'lore with this poor show? Unpardonable.

Only by SRK's lucky charm and Hussey's cool finish could Dada and his Knights save face today. BTW I could not spot most of Kolkata's page3 crowd (apart from Rituparna) at the box. King Khan should take care to add more local flavor to his cheer brigade. Especially in home matches.

Pic source : Cricinfo

Of mice and men

Son-Of-A-Bitch Mouse Solves Maze Researchers Spent Months Building

This is teh make-my-day funny. Wondering, however, if there was a video somewhere? Someone knows of a link? That would be real ROFL stuff.

And on the same funny lines, here's another that I chanced upon :
If a programming language was a boat not that I've ever so much as heard of turing, or ruby and other such languages, it's still hilarious. Do check out!

All you who sleep tonight

A gust of wind in early evening. No, slightly stronger, a gale. Yes, it's a gale. As in, not a storm. With all due promise of a good nor'wester, it peters out. Not a drop of rain. Branches rubbing up each other's thighs. Leaves and twigs blown in on our bedspread through the open third-story window. A whoosh here, and a shoo-i-eee there. Then. Suddenly. No, I don't think Dennis did it. The lights are out all over the neighborhood. Remember that all black panel from Hank Ketcham?

Seven-fifteen post meridian . Early days yet. After an hour's wait lights are back. Not on our street, they aren't. We fret. Fume. Cuss. And call up maintenance. Repent that decision of not buying battery backup before this summer. Head out of home. No choice but. Bad moon rising. Listen.

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Turns out there's a snag at the transformer. Maintenance people work out a wonderfully equitable solution. They cut off the substation and go home to sleep. Back to black. Whole square furlong. Thanks to that gale, it ain't that hot a night. Meaning, just below 30 degree c with 75% humidity. Forty winks? Forget it. Me too worked up as it is. Why does my blood boil every time there's a power cut deep into the night and nobody tells me ghost stories?

Toss. Turn. Sweat some. On about my eighth wink, phone buzz. Who the, what the heck's the time etc. My senior colleague at 2:33 AM. Wants me to go to the steel plant and try and fix something some mother's messed up. No it won't wait till morning. I feel kinda relieved, actually. Wasn't getting much sleep anyway. Mustn't let it show, though. Show righteous indignation, fool.

Next afternoon, asleep. Evening, groggy. Now I understand why firefighters write so very few blogs.

Well, everything has to pass, I imagine. That was two nights ago. Tonight we're back in business. Tonight I'm tossing pasta. Oh, how I love to cook. And when it's pasta, I go with my gut. Penne in bianco con salsa di pollo e verdure. La mia bambina mi ama cucinare la pasta. A bit easy on the sauce, all right?

My fav corner of the universe. Ah yes, the drink. Haig. With some ice and water. Like they say, Don't be vague, say Haig & Haig.