Humanity Fired!

A case study.

The white envelope in Tina’s hands contained nothing but unending darkness in its womb. She stood in front of the door of her B-112 apartment in sector 27, Noida. As her long skinny fingers fought a duel with the tenacious adhesive holding the paper joint together, her heart frantically prayed for a reason to re-establish her faith in God. Alas! It wasn’t destined to happen. With anger seething in her veins she unlocked her door. Then, with steps as ferocious as an invading Red Army she marched into her bedroom. Inside, a visibly beaten man lay comatose on the keyboard of his laptop, his heavy skull sending letters berserk on the open word file. The scene would have probably aroused sympathy in the eyes of most people, but for Tina it was merely a catalyst, acting towards increasing her blood pressure. The most disgusting site in the world for a wife is an empty husband and Tina Naresh was living this nightmare. She went over the desk and smacked the letter onto her sleeping better half’s smart but useless face.

“Take it!” she shouted in rage, “Your 7^th rejection letter! Congratulations! Now, may I just ask you when you will stop experimenting with words and do something about earning bread?”

The wild rebuke worked like epinephrine, pulling the man out of his slumber. For once, the keys on the keyboard thanked the woman of relieving them of their pain. Ram Naresh scratched his head as he tried to distinguish between the surreal reality of the dreams he had woken up from and the realistic nightmare that existed. He picked up the letter and read only the first five words.

“We regret to inform you…..”

7 months ago, he was the HR manager at Lehh Tech India Software solutions. During the global recession, the company was forced to trim its workforce in order to boost its productivity. The trimming meant getting rid of 250 fresh graduates at its Noida development centre. All was hunky dory, until Ram Naresh challenged the management’s decision. “Instead of bloodletting such a huge chunk of trained individuals,” he tried to explain the higher management, “there is a possibility that they can be used for some new product development.” Invariably, he was at loggerheads with most of the managerial team. The meeting organized to discuss the issue had almost broken into a verbal duel between Ram and his boss. Outnumbered and outmanned over his decision, Ram Naresh had only one choice left with him. On January 7^th, 2009, 251 instead of the predetermined 250 people, walked out of the lush green environmental friendly campus of Lehh Tech. Leading the pack was the man whom the company had made an example off – Ram Naresh. As he walked towards the road of despair in front of him, he turned around to have one last look at the sanctuary of his perpetrators.

“Bastards!” he grunted as he walked off.

It was only that day that Tina came to know of the stress her husband had been enduring for the past 15 days. Tina herself was an HR executive with an IT firm. When she heard what had transpired she was left aghast. She tried her best to console and sympathize with Ram. She knew how difficult it was to cut heads among your own, but she also knew that the corporate downtime the world was facing wasn’t going to end anytime soon. She wanted to convince Ram to go and apologize to the senior management team, but the mere mention of Lehh would send his temper soaring like a missile. Ram on the other hand was left devastated. The reckless act had shaken his belief in the industry he worked for. Suddenly, everything corporate started to appear as a farce. The HR magazines he devoured now appeared more like propaganda manuals. Wherever he looked, business and HR were the new names of terror. Even TV channels were taking a sadistic pleasure in showing employees’ cry for their jobs. ‘HR’ for him now, was nothing but a mercenary getting paid for manslaughter. Unable to bear the babel of dirty business around him, Ram slipped into a quagmire of dejection and isolation. Most of the time he would lock himself up in his room and scribble his hate onto sheets of paper. This, he thought, was the only way to cope with the vacuum in his life.

Meanwhile, Tina was trying to hold things together. She worked double the hard to maintain her performance levels. Even her company had resorted to downsizing. Tina did not commit the same mistake her husband did. Her social and financial dilemma was too grave for her to care about ethics, consequences, repercussions and employee unhappiness. As months passed by, Tina’s frustration grew by leaps and bounds. Overwork and the sight of the vegetable like human being lying at home were taking a toll on her senses. Each and every time she saw her colleagues going out and dining with their beau’s, a volcano would erupt inside her. The sparks of the couple’s professional friction had by now started to set afire their domestic life.

“Ram,” Tina said one evening, “it’s getting really difficult for me to hold things in place like this. I understand you are hurt, but this is no way to deal with it. You need to take back the reins of your life.”

“What are you suggesting?” he asked.

“Suggesting? Don’t you understand! I am telling you to go and find a job!” Tina screamed at his indiscretion.

“I can’t.”

“Why? Why can’t you? What do you want me to do? I am working my flesh off and you are here eating and relishing your sabbatical. This is it, Ram! If you don’t do something about yourself, I’ll kill myself!”

Ram was stunned at this wild rebuttal.

“Tina, I need more time. Just a little more! You know I have also written a book on my experiences. It’s almost complete! Maybe I can help the world around in some other way……” he tried to placate Tina.

“I am tired Ram,” she interrupted, her eyes moist with tears of desperation. “I can’t see you like this. When I see people around me happily chit chatting, I feel jealous. I feel jealous at their destiny. I feel jealous the way they talk. I feel jealous….” she burst into tears.

“Everything will be fine,” Ram consoled her. Nothing will be fine ever again.

Another 3 months passed by. Tina received a promotion and was now a senior HR in her company. While Tina was busy collecting accolades and recognitions, all Ram got were rejection letters from publishing houses. He was swarmed by a deluge of sorry’s and regret’s. Each regret letter was a crushing blow to whatever resilience was left in him. Ram’s daily diet now consisted of more sleeping tablets than meals. Each time he slept, he hoped, he wouldn’t have to get up again. Tina’s exasperation, on the other hand, was growing ferociously. Though her promotion gave her the financial stability she needed, Ram unknowingly was murdering her social needs. Her husband had become a major cause of embarrassment for her. She stopped attending parties and social gatherings. She dreaded what she would say if asked about her husband. A night later, another showdown took place at the Naresh residence. She had arranged for a job interview which Ram gave a miss.

“You are an idiot! A good for nothing! Marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life!” Tina’s anger was making her more verbose day by day. “It’s better not to have a husband than having a husband like you. Fool!” she bellowed.

Ram stood in silence. “I…”

“No more explanations Ram. Just go. Go and write the bullshit you have been writing for months and then get rejected. Just get out! Get out of this room! Get out of this house! Get out of my life!”

Tina’s rage was tearing her body apart. Meanwhile, all Ram did was turn around and leave.

Next day Tina got ready for the office. She repented for her reactions the day before, but thought that admitting them would only make Ram more complacent. She left in silence.

Tina was unable to concentrate on her work the entire day. She repented for the words that flew like poisoned arrows from her lips. Inside, her blood pressure seethed making her feel nauseated. Unable to bear the turbulence inside her body, she left the office early. On her way back she went to the chemist shop near her home.

“Namaste Madam,” the shopkeeper greeted her. Tina gave a plastic smile before asking for her pills.

“It’s Rs. 350,” the shopkeeper said flipping the calculator “Ramji came today morning. Appears he has not been going to the office lately. Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine.” Tina answered angrily in contempt. It was the worst time this question could have come up. Tina collected her packet and stomped out of the shop.

Outside her door, a white letter lay trapped under the door. She pulled out the poor piece of paper and ripped the sealing off.

“Dear Ram,” it said, “We recently went through your manuscript “Humanity Fired!” We believe that your book holds a lot of potential and would like to discuss the opportunity of entering into a collaboration. Please call us on the number given below so that we can send our agent to discuss the terms and conditions of the proposal.”

Tina couldn’t believe what she was reading. All the nausea and pain from her body suddenly disappeared. Her eager fingers ransacked the purse to find the keys to the door, but her excitement wouldn’t let her. Somehow, she got hold of the keys and turned the lock.

“Ram! Ram!” she bolted towards the bedroom where he lay sleeping on his computer chair.

“Baby, you did it! You did it!” she shouted hugging him from the back of his chair. But there was no response. Before Tina could understand what happened, a lifeless body slumped to the floor. On the laptop in front, lay an empty bottle of sleeping pills.

“Raaaaaam!” Tina screamed in horror.

Clenched between the fingers of the dead man was his last memoir.

“Dear Tina,

I know you have been disgruntled by my behavior lately. I know I have failed to be the husband you wanted. Neither was I a good husband nor a good companion. It’s too difficult me to escape from my thoughts. I tried my level best to bring myself to terms with life. But I don’t think I would be able to go back to my previous job or the life I had been living. I worked for those people for 3 years. That company was a mere startup when I joined. Now, three successful years later, this is what they give me in return. The company in which you arranged my interview was no different. I did a search and found out that they downsized their firm by 475 people last month. Don’t tell me that 475 people just went redundant in one day. My rejections tell me that even the people don’t want to listen to the truth. Probably, they are better off fighting and killing. It’s a world where humans are abundant but humanity endangered. There’s just too much corruption, monetarily and morally, and too many lies involved. Maybe I am impractical. Maybe it’s a delusion I am living in, but let me tell you, I am happy. I am happy that I don’t have to work as a butcher. My only cause of sadness is that I have failed you. To tell you the truth, I don’t deserve living with you. All I can give you is pain and unhappiness. Therefore, I have decided to leave. I would go away from your life. But don’t get me wrong, I still love you, I always have. It’s just that you’ll be better off without me. I have sold off the small piece of land my family owned near Sohna. It will fetch enough money for you to live comfortably even if you don’t work. Finally, all I want to say is - I am Sorry! Take care of yourself. Goodbye!”

Discussion Question:

1. Who killed Ram Naresh?

A. He himself

B. Tina Naresh

C. Lehh Ltd.

D. Destiny

E. We

5 months at Bimtech…..More Khoya, Less Payaa.

At last. Finally. Ultimately. Aakhirkar. The occasion to write the second installment of the Khoya-Payaa episode has come. Sud and me had previously tried to write a blog post on what we think, were the most sober gang of girls in the class, aptly known as the Sharafat Ali gang, but we had some reservations, owing to which the project was scrapped. (Sorry Guys!)

Moving on, what happened in the past few months? Some tragedies, some ecstasies, nevertheless a few visits to ‘Home Sweet Home’. Starting with the tragedies,

1. I was screwed in my trimester exams. My CGPA is somehow holding itself together at an unimpressive 6 (i.e. minus the 2 papers whose results are yet to be announced..yes, I am trying to justify my incompetency.) I’d request the college to atleast follow a Jhatka policy instead of Halaal.  Ek baar me maar ke kaam khatam karo yaar, tadpate kyon ho? 

2.Something worse than this also took place. I was, (according to the college) Penalized (but I prefer the word Burglarized) by 500 bucks. My fault, I went home without soliciting a permission from the warden and well, you know, a myriad of reasons, or should i call blames, thrust upon me. Don’t know why it happens, the more education I acquire, the more disappointed I get. Add to this my recalcitrance, my inherent allergy to authority, the situation gets even more ballistic.  For a long time, I thought that this was the problem of an authoritative capital-oriented system. Now, I believe that it’s my problem. The truth is, that I am unfit for the contorted ways of this world, or the what so called Duniyadaari. I can’t assume myself bending before each and every person, attesting my servility. Abraham Lincoln once said that if you want to test the character of a person, give him power. I, from my own experience, can say that 99% of the people fail. I don’t know how such unobtrusive authority can create bold entrepreneurs. It’s only fit for breeding salesmen. The problem does not belong to schools, b-schools or other institutes alone. Take MNC’s for example. Each of their departments is a charade.

Finance – Dupe the Government and Tax authorities.

Marketing – Dupe your customers. (Customer is the king, though a foolish one!)

Human Resources – Last but not the least, these pesky little employees create a lot of fuss, so let’s teach these people a lesson.

And this, my dear, is the world of MBA. The Persians used lashes to control people. MNC’s use silk boots. The biggest lesson I have learnt is that either you can do Business or practice Ethics. Business and Ethics don’t go together.  All rest is bullshit!

It makes me think that the world is an ugly place to live in and ‘Humans’ is a disgusting race, because no one, absolutely no one, can exhibit such savagery. We call for fairness, justice, equality….the first thing you are taught at a B-School is whatever your salary package is, multiply it by 10 - This is the output, in terms of money, the company seeks from you. There goes the fairness, the justice and the equality… When I heard this, for the first time in my life, I realized the true value of socialism. I considered it as an obstacle to development and what not. Now, I realize why Karl Marx said that Capitalism is self destructive. It deserves such an end.

You must be thinking that I am crazy, trying to understand socialism in a b-school. True! Writers are governed by strange capricious rules. The great one’s are called lunatic, the smaller one’s fools. Now consider another hilarious or rather ridiculous incident. My dear college arranged a function in collaboration with SPIC-MACAY named “Viraasat – 09.” By the end of the third day, the public had started calling it “Panavati - 09” (panavati means liability). In addition to this, there was a strange demand from the organizers’; they wanted to perform overnight on 24th October and as usual wanted some eyes and ears to grace the occasion. So, as usual, the attendance was made compulsory. I don’t know whose avant garde brain was behind this, but just explain me one thing; How can you teach culture under compulsion? And if you think you can, then what is the difference between you and the Taliban. The tools of intimidation are different, but the threat remains the same – Subjugation. Complete and absolute Subjugation. Probably, the next time I would hear the name SPIC-MACAY, I would be running as if my house’s on fire. 

Most of our life is spent in being driven by others. First our parents, then schools, then those nagging class teachers, then colleges, then jobs, then bosses and lastly, the x10 factor. George Orwell once said, “The great mass of human beings are not acutely selfish. At the age of thirty they abandon individual ambition – in many cases indeed – they almost abandon the sense  of being individual at all – and live chiefly for others, or simply, smothered under drudgery. ”

Undoubtedly, a man who speaks my mind, except for the fact that the age of thirty has now reduced to twenty something. The most effective way to control people is to kill the spirit. It’s very effective. I suggest you watch or read George Orwell’s 1984 and The Wachowski Brother’s film V for Vendetta to better understand what I am saying. The truth is, that unknown to us, a Big Brother is always watching over. The next time you feel the rush of youth, look inside yourself and try to find who are you afraid of? There would always be a Rat coming towards you.

Though I tried to start this post on a jocular note, the events have taken a serious turn. For me, writing is a way of happily crying my heart out, and this is what I was doing for the past 2 hrs, when I should have been studying for the OLT. Many a times, one small incident can have drastic repercussions on your vision of life. It’s funny how life can be both so appealing and disgusting at the same time. It is so stupid of modern civilization to have given up believing in the devil when he is the only explanation of it. No matter how good, bad or ugly this world is, the one thing I won’t do is run away. I am not an escapist. Whatever vestigial part of good persists, it’s enough to make life a worthwhile experience. The biggest battles are fought inside the human mind and so am I with myself, consistently, perpetually. Regarding culture, I appreciate the initiative, I sincerely do, but according to me, any such compulsion defeats the entire purpose of Cultural Awareness. To conclude, I would like to pass on a sound piece of advice, not by me, but a great woman,

A culture is made – or destroyed – by it’s articulate voices.

- Ayn Rand.

From TOP to STOP!

Sometimes, I think writing is a gift....it really is. It relieves me of my stress, my anxiety, my fear. I write these posts not for people but for myself. If they read then I’ll be happy, If not there is no reason to be sad. When i write these posts, I forget about the viva, the trimester that hangs like a sword or even those boring to-be-attended lectures. All I am, is a spectator watching the entire show from a distant eye. It's beautiful! how you can be so attached, yet so detached from the world. It's 11.37 and I feel no fear....for that exam, for that viva or for that trimester. At this moment, it's just me and this world. With all it's complexities and chaos, I still think…. it's beautiful! People are running like crazy. All want to be at the top. Top of their class, top of their profession and as a matter of fact, top of the class CGPA. In this rat race, what people miss to see are those subtle beauties of life.....that one cute smile, that one soft whisper, that one golden moment of silence that seems to stretch infinitesimally. All you need to do to watch this magnum opus is to say "STOP!" Let the time freeze. Let there be no bondage's....no accounts, no stats, no OB, no pesky little room partners, no nagging teachers, no girlfriends and neither any boyfriends. Precisely at this moment, you would be in tune with the world. The art is not in getting  away from the world but rather getting in tune with the world, a tune long forgotten.....

(And yet again, some sheep have flocked my room breaking my flow…..TO HELL WITH THIS…..Sometimes I think people are Violent even in subtlest of terms. Consciously or subconsciously WE ARE DESTRUCTIVE….and when we have nothing to destroy, we destroy time! Reading the Question papers and saying that I don’t know ANYTHING isn’t going to help. Stop preaching, start practising. I hate these sheep's.)

2 months at Bimtech…..Kya Khoya Kya Payaa??

It has been 2 months (well…..they will be in a matter of 32 hrs)….2 gruelling/funny/awesome/depressing/repressing months!! Some things i learned in these months are 1. SWOT-> saare bande/bandiyon/companiyon….the whole human race through the eyes of a manager is this – SWOT.

2. Some results reaffirmed my faith in HR as a career option (though I had my fair share of depressions…..something like ZERO placements in this field!)

3. The most important thing that OB (Organizational Behaviour) taught is PERCEPTION. It made me understand that what we ‘understand’ is not what we look, but what we perceive. When I went through the chapter I wanted to climb on the rooftop and shout…….AWESOME! AWESOME!

One of the best lectures of my life was the one conducted by a Mr. K.K. Jain from IIM-I……that day I wanted to climb on the rooftop and shout ….AWESOME! AWESOME! yet again.

BTW….let’s talk about the students. Some are decent, some irritating…..fortunately the decent outnumbering the irritating. My hostel wing is good too (except for a few!) There are some who are very eccentric….we have a decent guy who asks too many questions…a girl who appears to be the decent guys’ sister in terms of her questions. A guy who is set on fire merely by the mention of politics. There’s another one who along with his entire band of boys appears to have everything together, from sutta to studies. I also have a soft target for some fun...his name's KD, that's all I can tell about that nerd....kabhi phursat se aur bhi bataunga.

NOW,you must be anxious to know about the gals….isn’t it?? Well, there are a few good women (yeah….the phrase does bear a resemblance to the famous movie name A FEW GOOD MEN)….The baby faced CR girl (whom I call the Caped Crusader for reasons you wont know or even remotely assume) is always smiling like a bonny girl….but i can tell she’s a fine human being. One of her friends is a super silent types (many people say this about me too – SUPER SILENT….cheeee!)…her speciality is that she always sits with such a straight back in the class, that sometimes I just wanna scream out – HOW DO YOU DO THAT??? I tried it for an hour and was writhing in pain on my bed for rest of the day. GOSH!!! Albeit she too appears to be a a very fine person.

I think that’s enough for today……also because some distraction has broken my though process. I’ll see ya next time I’m sad……(I write only when I am sad. All my other posts were output of PRE and POST CAT depression.

BTW: Till now i have only told a fraction of the Payaa Part……rest of Payaa and Khoyaa is left! What type of writing style is this? MBA karo phir pataa chalega!!

Col. Harish Puri's open letter to Gen Kayani.

This is the letter that Col. Harish Puri addressed to Gen Kayani. Apart from the diplomacy and politics involved, this letter is surely the panache of writing. Impeccable use of Vocabulary and exuding the sheer intensity of Gen. Puri's thoughts, the letter would go down as one of the most marvellous letters ever written in English.

                     An open letter to Gen Kayani 

Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Dear Gen Kayani, 
Sir, let me begin by recounting that old army quip that did the rounds in the immediate aftermath of World war II: To guarantee victory, an army should ideally have German generals, British officers, Indian soldiers, American equipment and Italian enemies. 

A Pakistani soldier that I met in Iraq in 2004 lamented the fact that the Pakistani soldier in Kargil had been badly let down firstly by Nawaz Sharif and then by the Pakistani officers' cadre. Pakistani soldiers led by Indian officers, , he believed, would be the most fearsome combination possible. Pakistani officers, he went on to say, were more into real estate, defence housing colonies and the like. 

As I look at two photographs of surrender that lie before me, I can't help recalling his words. The first is the celebrated event at Dhaka on Dec 16, 1971, which now adorns most Army messes in Delhi and Calcutta. The second, sir, is the video of a teenage girl being flogged by the Taliban in Swat -- not far, I am sure, from one of your Army check posts.

The surrender by any Army is always a sad and humiliating event. Gen Niazi surrendered in Dhaka to a professional army that had outnumbered and outfought him. No Pakistani has been able to get over that humiliation, and 16th December is remembered as a black day by the Pakistani Army and the Pakistani state. But battles are won and lost – armies know this, and having learnt their lessons, they move on. 

But much more sadly, the video of the teenager being flogged represents an even more abject surrender by the Pakistani Army. The surrender in 1971, though humiliating, was not disgraceful. This time around, sir, what happened on your watch was something no Army commander should have to live through. The girl could have been your own daughter, or mine. 

I have always maintained that the Pakistani Army, like its Indian counterpart, is a thoroughly professional outfit. It has fought valiantly in the three wars against India, and also accredited itself well in its UN missions abroad. It is, therefore, by no means a pushover. The instance of an Infantry unit, led by a lieutenant colonel, meekly laying down arms before 20-odd militants should have been an aberration. But this capitulation in Swat, that too so soon after your own visit to the area, is an assault on the sensibilities of any soldier. What did you tell your soldiers? What great inspirational speech did you make that made your troops back off without a murmur? Sir, I have fought insurgency in Kashmir as well as the North-East, but despite the occasional losses suffered (as is bound to be the case in counter-insurgency operations), such total surrender is unthinkable.

I have been a signaller, and it beats me how my counterparts in your Signal Corps could not locate or even jam a normal FM radio station broadcasting on a fixed frequency at fixed timings. Is there more than meets the eye? 

I am told that it is difficult for your troops to "fight their own people." But you never had that problem in East Pakistan in 1971, where the atrocities committed by your own troops are well documented in the Hamoodur Rahman Commission Report. Or is it that the Bengalis were never considered "your own" people, influenced as they were by the Hindus across the border? Or is that your troops are terrified by the ruthless barbarians of the Taliban?

Sir, it is imperative that we recognise our enemy without any delay. I use the word "our" advisedly – for the Taliban threat is not far from India's borders. And the only force that can stop them from dragging Pakistan back into the Stone Age is the force that you command. In this historic moment, providence has placed a tremendous responsibility in your hands. Indeed, the fate of your nation, the future of humankind in the subcontinent rests with you. It doesn't matter if it is "my war" or "your war" – it is a war that has to be won. A desperate Swati citizen's desperate lament says it all – "Please drop an atom bomb on us and put us out of our misery!" Do not fail him, sir.

But in the gloom and the ignominy, the average Pakistani citizen has shown us that there is hope yet. The lawyers, the media, have all refused to buckle even under direct threats. It took the Taliban no less than 32 bullets to still the voice of a brave journalist. Yes, there is hope – but why don't we hear the same language from you? Look to these brave hearts, sir – and maybe we shall see the tide turn. Our prayers are with you, and the hapless people of Swat.

The New York Times predicts that Pakistan will collapse in six months. Do you want to go down in history as the man who allowed that to happen?



The writer is a retired colonel of the Indian army who lives in Pune. Email: hbpuri@hotmail.com

The Making Of: PlayStation

A wonderful article by edge online. It narrates how Sony, battling with both internal and external struggles, created the playstation and beat nintendo at its own game.

http://www.edge-online.com/magazine/the-making-of-playstation

Meri Kitaab!

Iknow! I know! It has been 5 months since i last attended upon this blog (which nobody see's!) Anyways, today is a special day- aaj main apni paheli kitaab likh rela hoon....my first book. It's a science fiction and hopefully, itni buri nahi hogi. Agar koi dekhne ki zehmat uthana chahta hai to he can see it here:

http://www.ifiwereabook.com/BookDisplay.aspx?pid=570

Comments,Ratings and criticisms are welcome. You are also invited to throw shoes and stones at your computer if u feel that the book is utter crap, but mind that I am in no way responsible for the injury caused to your computer screen. Bhagwan aapki raksha kare (May god protect you!)

By the way, Ghajini se to meri book achchi hi hogi...see ya.Bye!