It takes a leader to talk the walk
And a manager to walk the talk.
Carriages are good cos they carry the coal, but its the rail engine that drives them to their destination.
Well.. I was in a project leadership course today :P
The guy started off with a quote by Omar Bradshaw, "Its easy being a leader, its getting people to follow you thats tough!" and chipped in with Eisenhower's "Plans are useless, but Planning is good"
And then the participants did their bit...
"Rome wasnt built in a day.. It took time to convince those Romans!"
Maslow and Herzberg came out from their graves in my masters coursebook today; X, Y and Z stopped their association with algebra to become theories in themselves; blah blah blah.
After spending a day in classroom, I learnt a thing or two about leadership; or so I think.. And definitely learnt a thing or two about gujjus! I had the honour of meeting yet another specimen (used to be the favorite word for one of my school teachers) today.
The icing on the cake was the last exercise for the day. Doing the exercise, we made as many leadership errors that we were taught to avoid the whole day.
Perspectives changed; Practicality didnt!
And then I realised why the 40-80 year old theories are still taught, again and again and again, in vain. And I looked back at the thousands of years' worth of "sayings" with respect.
Its so easy to say things!
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Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Puls My Dear
Join me in wishing Mr. Puls a very very happy birthday. I dont remember which year he was born though. Anywayz, hes always young thanks to God's grace. I love him from the bottom of my heart. So does a million others, but he would always be special to me. My friend, philosopher, guide and God. He has an amazing personality, and his charisma can draw people towards him. I am proud to be associated with him in an endearing way for about 18 yrs now. Love ya puls. Love ya so damn much. Just next to my parents though. Knowing him, he wouldnt mind settling for second best in my heart :)
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Monday, September 01, 2008
Insignificant You
The world goes round and round and it doesn't suffice
While you are lucky to go round maybe twice or thrice.
The sun burns down our planetary neighbour's face
And a thousand degrees cooler, we scream about its unforgiving rays.
Rocks orbit aimlessly amidst the vast expanse
But we look to strip every rock here to make our cars and fans.
A friendly wave would take 8 mins to reach the next lifeless rock
But we don't stop to greet our elderly neighbour in the block.
Stars and parents are solely responsible to incubate life
But alas the cinema stars are more revered, what a strife!
We reach out to planets and aliens and the search does continue
While the plants and animals suffering next to you doesn't subdue
Like a mother the sun burns itself out to make life comfortable, with no regrets
While we burn all our ancestral fossils to light our pubs and cigarettes
Ants live in the billions and thousands get stamped out everyday
Perhaps there is a lesson if only you pause to think on a busy day
There are a billion rocks out there in the sky
But only one where a billion lives can fly
You will only begin to appreciate the beauty around you
When you realise you are but an insignificant you!
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While you are lucky to go round maybe twice or thrice.
The sun burns down our planetary neighbour's face
And a thousand degrees cooler, we scream about its unforgiving rays.
Rocks orbit aimlessly amidst the vast expanse
But we look to strip every rock here to make our cars and fans.
A friendly wave would take 8 mins to reach the next lifeless rock
But we don't stop to greet our elderly neighbour in the block.
Stars and parents are solely responsible to incubate life
But alas the cinema stars are more revered, what a strife!
We reach out to planets and aliens and the search does continue
While the plants and animals suffering next to you doesn't subdue
Like a mother the sun burns itself out to make life comfortable, with no regrets
While we burn all our ancestral fossils to light our pubs and cigarettes
Ants live in the billions and thousands get stamped out everyday
Perhaps there is a lesson if only you pause to think on a busy day
There are a billion rocks out there in the sky
But only one where a billion lives can fly
You will only begin to appreciate the beauty around you
When you realise you are but an insignificant you!
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Saturday, January 19, 2008
Bheema - The Hit List
1000 hits
500 broken limbs
100 bullets
50 rowdies
10 killings
5 "no-idea-where-it-came-from" songs
1 line message at the end
0 story
I gave it a 20/10... (20 bucks on ticket and 10 bucks on snacks.)
Not many movies can be rated "Not worth watching even a free downloaded version". Absolutely stunning!
Lingusamy - Thaangala da Saamy!
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500 broken limbs
100 bullets
50 rowdies
10 killings
5 "no-idea-where-it-came-from" songs
1 line message at the end
0 story
I gave it a 20/10... (20 bucks on ticket and 10 bucks on snacks.)
Not many movies can be rated "Not worth watching even a free downloaded version". Absolutely stunning!
Lingusamy - Thaangala da Saamy!
Random Access
The search has just begun !!!
Autobiographies - Whats wrong?
The first autobiography I had read was "The Black Beauty", a classic tale of a race horse. I still remember most of it. I am not an ardent fan of autobiographies, but I have read a few including those of Jawaharlal Nehru, Mahatma Gandhi, Adolf Hitler and Michael Schumacher.
Lewis Hamilton made a dream debut in Formula 1. Bestowed with a McLaren which was running at its best (although its upto individuals to speculate how a pathetic car in 2006 became a race winner in 2007), he was in the running to become the champion until some rookie errors made him look mortal. His rise during the season came as a surprise to many. Even a hardened fan would have been stunned by what followed next, an autobiography named Lewis Hamilton.
Michael Hussey is a fascinating prospect in the Cricket world. His bradmanesque average has created an awe. Being a part of a team that hasn't lost or drawn a test since his debut does ease the pressure of having to perform at an international level. But that is not to take away his abundant skills on display. However, after a couple of years at the helm, he released his autobiography, titled "Mr Cricket - ....".
The purists would say something is wrong somewhere with the autobiographies nowadays. They have become the latest marketing strategy. Name and fame has been utilised to make money, especially in sport, for a while now. But what has that done to the actual people who count. The normal person who shells out the bucks to get a copy of these "stuff". A person's life is put in words and published to make a difference far from the bank accounts of those concerned; to make a difference in the life of those who read them... The rise of a person from humble backgrounds is inspirational, the fall harrowing, the lessons learnt proverbial, the comeback awe inspiring, the anecdotes evergreen. Its priceless.
Needless to say, its all missing from the newer ones. A rise alone isn't worth trumpeting about. What should be in one's diary shouldn't be published to the world at large. It could have been a struggle to come thus far, but its still is worth less than a one sided coin. For all you know, there might be a guy getting a double century on debut and publishing an autobiography titled "The Debut", or an on field incident resulting in an autobiography "The Monkey beats the Donkey". No racism meant there, for those who want to fan the flames. Going by the trend, a guy might publish his autobiography "Twelfth Knight", how he came from behind to pass the greatest ordeal of human kind - the Std 12 exams!
Agreed that the dictionaries do not tag a time line to an autobiography, but that shouldn't be disadvantaged in this manner. Learn to live life, make a difference to this world and then if you think (and think twice) if its worthwhile for the readers, publish your account of it. "Shut Up!" is as simple as it gets for the rest.
Random Access
The search has just begun !!!
Lewis Hamilton made a dream debut in Formula 1. Bestowed with a McLaren which was running at its best (although its upto individuals to speculate how a pathetic car in 2006 became a race winner in 2007), he was in the running to become the champion until some rookie errors made him look mortal. His rise during the season came as a surprise to many. Even a hardened fan would have been stunned by what followed next, an autobiography named Lewis Hamilton.
Michael Hussey is a fascinating prospect in the Cricket world. His bradmanesque average has created an awe. Being a part of a team that hasn't lost or drawn a test since his debut does ease the pressure of having to perform at an international level. But that is not to take away his abundant skills on display. However, after a couple of years at the helm, he released his autobiography, titled "Mr Cricket - ....".
The purists would say something is wrong somewhere with the autobiographies nowadays. They have become the latest marketing strategy. Name and fame has been utilised to make money, especially in sport, for a while now. But what has that done to the actual people who count. The normal person who shells out the bucks to get a copy of these "stuff". A person's life is put in words and published to make a difference far from the bank accounts of those concerned; to make a difference in the life of those who read them... The rise of a person from humble backgrounds is inspirational, the fall harrowing, the lessons learnt proverbial, the comeback awe inspiring, the anecdotes evergreen. Its priceless.
Needless to say, its all missing from the newer ones. A rise alone isn't worth trumpeting about. What should be in one's diary shouldn't be published to the world at large. It could have been a struggle to come thus far, but its still is worth less than a one sided coin. For all you know, there might be a guy getting a double century on debut and publishing an autobiography titled "The Debut", or an on field incident resulting in an autobiography "The Monkey beats the Donkey". No racism meant there, for those who want to fan the flames. Going by the trend, a guy might publish his autobiography "Twelfth Knight", how he came from behind to pass the greatest ordeal of human kind - the Std 12 exams!
Agreed that the dictionaries do not tag a time line to an autobiography, but that shouldn't be disadvantaged in this manner. Learn to live life, make a difference to this world and then if you think (and think twice) if its worthwhile for the readers, publish your account of it. "Shut Up!" is as simple as it gets for the rest.
Random Access
The search has just begun !!!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Poetic News
I switch on Channel News Asia everyday morning, for more than just news... But I never expected to see this pop up. The video is something that cant derive its poetic justice from words. But the verse in itself was absolute bliss.
Here it goes...
I saw a peacock, with a fiery tail
I saw a blazing comet, drop down hail
I saw a cloud, with ivy circled round
I saw a sturdy oak, creep on the ground
I saw a pismire, swallow up a whale
I saw a raging sea, brim full of ale
I saw a venice glass, sixteen foot deep
I saw a well, full of men's tears that weep
I saw their eyes, all in a flame of fire
I saw a house, as big as the moon and higher
I saw the sun, even in the midst of night
I saw the man that saw these sights.
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The search has just begun !!!
Here it goes...
I saw a peacock, with a fiery tail
I saw a blazing comet, drop down hail
I saw a cloud, with ivy circled round
I saw a sturdy oak, creep on the ground
I saw a pismire, swallow up a whale
I saw a raging sea, brim full of ale
I saw a venice glass, sixteen foot deep
I saw a well, full of men's tears that weep
I saw their eyes, all in a flame of fire
I saw a house, as big as the moon and higher
I saw the sun, even in the midst of night
I saw the man that saw these sights.
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The search has just begun !!!
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
A vegetarian honeymoon in Phuket - Day 2
The second day was more relaxing and enjoyable, a complete foil from the intense first day. Bangkok is the shopping heaven, but other Thai tourist towns are not far off. Needless to say, a lot of shopping was done, filling the travel bag to the brim. For once, thousands seemed to disappear without a moment's bother. That I already had a closset full of T-shirts didn't seem to matter. And the shopping stretches and malls seemed to go on and on. Strangely though, it doesnt take a toll on the body, even after roaming about a dozen streets and a two-mile long beach road to and fro, going in and out of shoe shops at every corner in search of that elusive pair, visiting a T-shirt centre, a cashewnut factory, honey preparation centre and a local handicraft showroom. At Phuket, its all in a day's work! Where else in the world would you find a sound and light laser show based on a water fountain (akin to the one at Sentosa, Singapore and Petronas Towers, KL) to describe the rich history of... a shopping mall! Visit Jungceylon and you would even find an art and culture show in the midst!
That brings me to the other highlight of the day, the cultural awareness of Thailand's rich heritage. Having a non-stop chatterbox as a guide helps. The ties with India and China is unmistakeable in this pristine city. The culture is a rich blend of Chinese acumen and Indian exotism, intricately fabricated with local flavour. The King's name (Rama IX) reflects the Indian touch. Yellow colour that is associated with his birth on a Monday revolves around Chinese beliefs. That the whole of Thailand wears yellow on every monday is the local spice. Beautiful!
Buddha is a common deity here, and the famous monks are waxed in memories and memorials. Even Brahma and Vishnu are worshipped here, although they are also called "Buddha" in local households. The architecture is a mix of Indian "viharas" and Chinese "dragon" toppings and Srilankan interiors. The gardens outside the temple resembled the grandeur of Budh Gaya, while the garlanded elephants and continuous burst of firecrackers almost brought me back home. Folklore associated with the temple are distinctively Chinese, with anti-black magic and immortalising inscriptions on a white cloth tied to the forehead of the local villagers gave them the might to fight off the invading Chinese. Exhillarating stuff!
Back to food. Jubiliant from yesterday's dinner, I was bolder to try out some other Indian joint. There are a heck of a lot of Indian food options here at the beach road at Patong. After vain attempts at locating one led to a dead-end (literally), and some rather "interesting" paintings and sculptures of the human body, I got lured into an Indian joint at a fog end of a lane of restaurants. Seeing beautiful looking scantilly dressed women all day long does affect the cognitive abilities of a man. Although I did notice that there were no other customers there, I didn't turn back. Half an hour later, I came out of there with a nauseating feeling and desperately drowned a McCafe and an icecream to mask it. Worst spend of the day. There are definitely two sides to the coin that you toss over at the food joints. Seafood and Thaifood is everywhere on the streets, with every possible sea creature on display. Today, I saw culture amongst chaos. Heritage couldn't hide more old caucasian men with beer on one hand and young asian woman on the other!
Random Access
The search has just begun !!!
That brings me to the other highlight of the day, the cultural awareness of Thailand's rich heritage. Having a non-stop chatterbox as a guide helps. The ties with India and China is unmistakeable in this pristine city. The culture is a rich blend of Chinese acumen and Indian exotism, intricately fabricated with local flavour. The King's name (Rama IX) reflects the Indian touch. Yellow colour that is associated with his birth on a Monday revolves around Chinese beliefs. That the whole of Thailand wears yellow on every monday is the local spice. Beautiful!
Buddha is a common deity here, and the famous monks are waxed in memories and memorials. Even Brahma and Vishnu are worshipped here, although they are also called "Buddha" in local households. The architecture is a mix of Indian "viharas" and Chinese "dragon" toppings and Srilankan interiors. The gardens outside the temple resembled the grandeur of Budh Gaya, while the garlanded elephants and continuous burst of firecrackers almost brought me back home. Folklore associated with the temple are distinctively Chinese, with anti-black magic and immortalising inscriptions on a white cloth tied to the forehead of the local villagers gave them the might to fight off the invading Chinese. Exhillarating stuff!
Back to food. Jubiliant from yesterday's dinner, I was bolder to try out some other Indian joint. There are a heck of a lot of Indian food options here at the beach road at Patong. After vain attempts at locating one led to a dead-end (literally), and some rather "interesting" paintings and sculptures of the human body, I got lured into an Indian joint at a fog end of a lane of restaurants. Seeing beautiful looking scantilly dressed women all day long does affect the cognitive abilities of a man. Although I did notice that there were no other customers there, I didn't turn back. Half an hour later, I came out of there with a nauseating feeling and desperately drowned a McCafe and an icecream to mask it. Worst spend of the day. There are definitely two sides to the coin that you toss over at the food joints. Seafood and Thaifood is everywhere on the streets, with every possible sea creature on display. Today, I saw culture amongst chaos. Heritage couldn't hide more old caucasian men with beer on one hand and young asian woman on the other!
Random Access
The search has just begun !!!
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