Job opening ads

Have you seen some of the job ads? Sometimes the requirement, in terms of years-of-experience, in a nascent technology exceeds the age of that technology itself! Long time back seeing those requirements I used to get baffled. Slowly, as time progressed, my eyes (and brain) got trained to such ads. I classified them as "advertising gimmicks" of the recruiting companies.

But it took a dilbert cartoon strip to let me realize the real and true motive behind such ads :-) Click here to see the 29-Feb-08 strip…

In the strip, Catbert (the evil HR director) posts a job opening. The requirement states: Candidate must have an I.Q. of 300, Two Centuries of Unix Experience and a track record of winning Nobel prizes.

After posting the ad, Catbert thinks with a smug: 90% of my job is convincing people they don't deserve theirs.

PS: HR professionals, please excuse this post.

It's not about the Bike

Read Lance Armstrong's "It's not about the Bike". His other book - "Every Second Counts" - appealed to me more

Linda Armstrong's - Lance's mother’s - character wowed me. To me, her character is much much stronger than Lance's.To bring up a child ALL ALONE in her teenage; manage her studies; and grow up the corporate ladder, without anything to prove to anyone but herself, requires tremendous amount of courage. Do you know what the litmus test of courage is? Carrying-on all-alone with determination, when the chips are down and when nobody cares about you. Lance didn’t pass that test. Linda did! In the hospital bed, before his surgery, to hide his courage Lance declares to his friends that he will fight and defeat the cancer. But he later admits that the declaration was to camouflage his fear. He had friends, his mother and his "declaration" to support his courage. Linda had none of those. (This doesn't mean that I don't admire Lance's courage)

One particular section of the book reminded me about the importance of presenting things in the right way:

Lance Armstrong had approached two hospitals to cure his cancer. Given below are the responses of the two doctors of the respective hospitals. You will see that the content of their message is the same. The way they put across the message is what differs.

The doctor in Houston: “I'm glad you are here. You will crawl out of here. I'm going to kill you. Everyday I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to bring you back to life. We're going to hit you with chemo, and then hit you again, and hit you again. You're not going to be able to walk. We're practically going to have to teach you how to walk again, after we're done."

The doctor in Indiana: "You are in an advanced stage. The percentages are unfavorable. But this is potentially curable. Even-though you're in the poor-prognosis category, we've cured a lot worse. And we don't want the chemo to affect your lungs. This is to give you a chance later to recover physically and compete in cycling."

I think anyone can guess which hospital Lance chose for his treatment. Putting things across in a nice and polite way, and mixing it with hope, makes a huge difference.

Some other interesting quotes of the book are given below:

Lance Armstrong: Your past forms you, whether you like it or not. Each encounter and experience has its own effect, and you're shaped the way the wind shapes a mesquite tree on a plain.

Linda Armstrong: If you are going to get anywhere, you're going to have to do it yourself, because no one is going to do it for you. If you can’t give 110 percent, you won't make it.

Tell Me Why

While hopping from channel to channel I came across this performance by Declan Galbraith. It is called "Tell Me Why". I loved the 10 year old's performance. He has got good control over his voice...! I managed to catch two philosophical lines in the lyrics ;-)

Everyday I ask myself what will I have to do to be a man?
Do I have to stand and fight to prove to everybody who I am?

For other trivias of this music that set a world record, click on the link above. And if you know where to download the free mp3 of it, please drop in a word ;-)

Marxist Rumors

A conversation among a visitor, my father and me...

“I heard your entire family's name was cut from the voters’ list. Did you get it reinstated?” I asked the visitor
“Yes... These dirty tricks of Marxist party!” He exasperated “Many sisters' and priests' name were cut form the list. In the next election, the Marxists want to come back to power by hook or crook. They want to manipulate the voters’ list. They want to do West Bengal in Kerala.”
“But... won't that create a permanent hatred among the people towards the party?! Anyone whose name was cut will most likely never vote for the party!!” I was bemused
“Even otherwise they will never! The communists are shrewd. They are cutting the names of those whom they are sure will never vote for them.”

He had a point. I nodded.

The visitor continued. “In West Bengal the situation is so bad. To construct a house one has to donate an amount to the local party office. Can you believe it?! The party has tried something similar in Kerala. Have you noticed that the number of "bucket-donations" the party used to conduct has come down drastically. How do you think they are compensating for the financial loss they incur?”
“How?” I asked.
“Recently, in Kottayam, they approached a govt.-medical-college doctor and asked to donate 5 lakh rupees to the party fund. The doctor refused and said he can contribute only 3 lakh rupees!! 3 lakh!! Not a small amount!! But the comrades were not convinced. In fact they were furious. They refused to accept 3 lakh. Before leaving they threatened him that they knew how to get 10 lakh from him. The next day the doctor got a transfer order. He had to now settle the row with 10 lakh rupees. Btw, do you know what happened in Baby Memorial Hospital?”
“No”
“Well... the Marxists asked for 1 crore donation. The hospital owner refused. The hospital soon received a show-case notice from the environment department asking them why the department should not take action against the hospital for polluting the nearby canal.”

We were silent for a few seconds before my father spoke. “Whatever be the party, politicians are birds of the same feather. All hungry for money and power. They will do anything for it. One of the worst things the Marxists did was extremely politicize Calicut University. The University now reeks with their filth.”
My father - an ex-professor in Calicut University - shared an incident. “There was this institute with excellent facilities that wanted the recognition from Calicut University. I was the invigilator. I liked their dedication and facilities. I approved. The next step was to get an approval from the Registrar. The institute approached the Registrar. His response was to contact Matahi Chacko - the local Marxist veteran. At that time Matahi Chacko was a Senate member. The institute's officials weren't sure what to do. So they contacted me and requested to help them understand the procedure. I knew the official procedure, which was quite simple. All the Registrar had to do was sign the document. Since I had approved, he had to have a strong reason NOT to sign. And I was sure that there was no reason NOT to sign. Since the institute appeared to have that dedication, which is rare to find these days, I told them I'll check with the Registrar what went wrong. On contacting the Registrar, he asked me to contact Mathai Chacko!! I didn't understand why Matahi Chacko has to have a say here. I communicated the Registrar’s message to the institute. Around the same time the institute came to know that another institute was recognized by the University. The other institute had no basic facilities. Bemused they approached me again. Looking at their plight I thought I'll try to help them. I called Mathai Chacko. He lifted the phone and started speaking in an extremely rude and impolite manner. A typical rowdy language which I’m not used to. I was irritated. I snapped the call without speaking anything further. I conveyed the same to the institute. I don't know whether they got recognized later. But that incident was another reality check. I knew once again that the Marxists are not angels.”
The visitor chipped in. “They are devils. Pinarayi has lot of benami property throughout Kerala. Deepika daily is his benami. The whole world knows it…!”

The phone rang and our discussion thread broke…

***************

This post might be a surprise to my friends who have known me as a leftist. I’m no leftist or rightist. Just a humanist. It is better to let the world know about the rumors that are floating around. Support the good in anything. And vehemently oppose the evil.

Lady In The Brown Sari

Bangalore Airport...

Arrival Section...

I have been waiting for the past 15 minutes for my friend to come out through the Arrival Gate. Waiting is something I detest most. That too for 15 minutes!! I started becoming fidgety.

With no one to talk I looked around. That is when I noticed this girl. Clad in a brown sari, she had her hands clasped against the steel rails. Her eyes was constantly searching for someone's glimpse at the arrival gate. Her eyes spoke volumes. She was expecting someone. Now and then her lips will break into a smile at the sight of someone's shadow in the gate, only to repose when the person steps out from the shadow. “No… it is not him!” Her eyes spoke. In a few seconds hope will again spread in her eyes. She will lean against the steel rail, squeeze them and then gently smile at the shadows with her eyes.

She was 'longing' personified. I wanted to capture that image. It was such a beauty observing her. She stood there with hope dancing throughout her body. But something was restraining her from expressing it to the fullest. Another 15 minutes might have passed. That is when the smile in her eyes became broader... and moved to her lips... to stay there without diminishing. Her eyes stopped wandering. It was now steady, focusing at the arrival gate. I looked at the subject that had captured the fascination of the lady-in-the-brown-sari. With a tired face he walked out slowly. His smile had the touch of relief.

He walked to her, and hugged the old man standing next to her. “His father...” I whispered. Now I knew what was restraining her. While walking to the taxi that was parked for him, he managed to escape the old man's chat-and-eyes. For a moment he held her hand and squeezed it. Both looked at each other and laughed silently...

"Hey...! Stop ogling!"
I turned to see my friend staring down at me with a wide grin.
Ogling!!!! No point explaining to him. He won’t understand.
“How was your journey?” I asked him with a smile.