tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30043394377184709192023-11-15T08:02:57.271-08:00Thoughts from Avi's DeskIts better to die in ones dreams than to wake up and find that the dreams are dead.
Avimanyu - December 31, 2005avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-29760318355600769882009-08-26T15:39:00.000-07:002009-08-26T15:40:46.499-07:00Preliminaries, Stars and PollutionJust had my preliminaries done yesterday. The last forty five days were spent at nothing than reading. Had put a hold on my social life, entertainment, research. Had stopped attending calls, stopped making calls. Now it’s Time to get back to those, return the calls, watch the Netflix shipping, deal with the revise and resubmits, write down the new concepts, make those editorial changes, find potential new outlets for rejected work, working on dissertation…<br /><br />All these days I was preparing for the exam, I wished that I could spend some time with my work instead. But now that it’s over, all I can think is taking a day off from everything. It’s been a while since I stared at the stars at night. I happen to stay in a place that is quite far from the pollution that impedes us from seeing what is out there in the open. Having said that, I don’t remember the last time in Pullman, I actually looked up. <br /><br />Some twenty five years back in Calcutta, my parents used to take me to the terrace of the building to show me the stars. The idea was make me ponder on something, while they stuff the food in my mouth. With years, the city became polluted to the extent that even on a clear sky all one can see is dust. Things are a bit different now. It’s the mind that had been dusty, stopping me to stare up and enjoy the beauty of the vastness, where every twinkle is like a drop of breath. <br />After I go home today, I would walk around stare at the emptiness and maybe talk with five year old Avi, who seems to have been lost all these years.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-79442542181534278882009-07-31T15:52:00.001-07:002009-07-31T15:52:37.775-07:00Strange tribute“Hey what are you doing?....Avi and I have just started a lunch in Red Hot Chili Peppers…? Can the assignment wait…? I am just suggesting you to drop everything and join us? …No Excuse.<br /><br />That was Debasish speaking to Saikat, while I was deeply engrossed with the Roasted Chilli Pork chops.<br /><br />Debasish and Saikat are two of my oldest friends. After high school we went separate ways. Debasish went to study Engineering, Saikat to become a photographer and me a Market Analyst. After a long winded path Debasish and I landed back to our hometown, Calcutta. Saikat never left. It was more than eight years, since we were getting a chance to sit and cherish our past while sighing about the unknown future.<br /><br />Saikat was in by 10 minutes. It was one of the most memorable lunch, I had. We promised each other that since we are in the city we must meet at least once a week. We realized that despite our ages, when we are together, we become not quite different from what we were as teen agers.<br /><br />Little we knew that after two of three such meetings, we will be separated again. Debasish, traveling for several assignments across Europe for his firm, and me leaving everything that was dear to me to carve out an academic career starting with a PhD. Once during my high school days I spent nine months in Delhi. It was pre Internet days. Ever week I wrote to Saikat and Debasish. Fountain Pen and white paper. They wrote back. Today, despite the endless possibilities with advancement of Internet, cell phone, web 2.0, the email addresses or Saikat and Debashish are hardly typed, when I write anything. Strangely though I miss their company and distinctly remember every incident associated with our last few meetings.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-81000048516746647102009-03-04T15:30:00.000-08:002009-03-04T15:31:30.521-08:00Mystic Past against Ruthless PresentEver since I left India, there were several bits of moments I wanted to re-live. Moments that were inscribed in my mind as crystal droplets. Nothing great or magnificent, but very subtle things, such as sitting in my favorite coffee shop, drinking my favorite Americano on that chair where I spent countless hours; being with the friends, whose friendship has crossed two decades; and eating in some of my favorite restaurants; sitting on old sofa that has witnessed my growing weight over three decades. <br />Reaching home what did I find? The old sofa is replaced by a new one, that coffee shop has changed its layout and does not brew the same Americano, those friends are consumed by their family and the 9:00 AM through 10:00 PM office. I did not even try out the restaurants. I guess I would rather cherish the memories than see them dead. <br />Upon returning, I realized that I cannot relive those moments, as I am not relevant them, as they are to me. <br />Still wondering where can I find them, how can I relive them? Maybe I will at some point, maybe I won’t. Calcutta and Home were synonymous for these subtleties. I always want them to be intertwined as a Unidimensional construct, but I know better. But I prefer to be ignorant at this moment.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-1836653541381361892009-03-03T14:40:00.000-08:002009-03-03T14:43:08.903-08:00A rare ResourceIts 2:40 PM. My class for Structural Equation Modeling does not begin until 2:50. Never thought with my schedule I will get 10 minutes of free time. This is like a lottery of a few hundred dollars, when the economy hits recession. So I thought lets post this news and preserve this. THE DAY I GOT TEN MINUTES TO MYSELF.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-63001081501702411212009-01-09T02:57:00.001-08:002009-01-09T02:58:43.624-08:00Calcutta Trip-2008-009: to home and back<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">After sixteen months and twelve days, I came home to spend sometime. Three weeks passed like a weekend, and I am once again packed to return to <st1:city><st1:place>Pullman</st1:place></st1:City>. None of what I had planned on doing in <st1:city><st1:place>Calcutta</st1:place></st1:City> was actually being done. Despite that, my heart is content to make me feel poignant. This time I had to attend a social event where my presence was instrumental. From the day I arrived, I was put into a schedule that I almost had no idea of. The pre-event, the event and post event took the better part of fifteen days. In these days, I got closer to my family and its extension. The non-existent bonds became visible and the strong ones became stronger. Though I always found too many people as an encroachment to my privacy, I miss them in my house. For three days about sixty members of my family and friends had breakfast, lunch and dinner in our house and on the third day about five hundred more joined in. Yes, I will miss them. Because of the breadth of the program, I could not spend quality time with any of them. I believe I will make that up the next time I hit <st1:city><st1:place>Calcutta</st1:place></st1:City>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">When I was a resident of the city, I was a regular patron of Barista and Café Coffee Day (two of the better coffee shop chains). This time I could only go to a Café Coffee Day once. The menu had changed significantly. My favorite “caffeine kick” was missing from the menu and I was given a single shot instead of the ordered double. Not to mention that has been a forty percent hike in almost all the items. <span style=""> </span>I guess my romance with coffee in <st1:city><st1:place>Calcutta</st1:place></st1:City> as explicated in <a href="http://avimanyu.blogspot.com/2007/07/sweet-taste-of-coffee.html">http://avimanyu.blogspot.com/2007/07/sweet-taste-of-coffee.html</a> and <a href="http://avimanyu.blogspot.com/2007/07/glowworm-innocence-and-phd.html">http://avimanyu.blogspot.com/2007/07/glowworm-innocence-and-phd.html</a> is reaching its end. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The remaining seven days I lay sick due to the resultant equilibrium between the ruling government and opposition party in regards to emission of pollution by autorickshaws (three wheeled vehicles used as a means of transport). While the government did nothing proactive to make transition from two strokes to four strokes and four strokes to CNG as per Supreme court orders, the opposition using the auto drivers as a vote bank called for strike. The result is continuation of pollution, which resulted in a gray sky which once used to be blue. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In my trip back to <st1:city><st1:place>Pullman</st1:place></st1:City> I have a twelve hour layover in JFK and a seventeen hour in <st1:city><st1:place>Seattle</st1:place></st1:City>. All of this because Delta delayed a flight from<span style=""> </span>NY to <st1:city><st1:place>Seattle</st1:place></st1:City> by a hour and a half. The result is I am missing the last flight on 11<sup>th</sup> January from <st1:city><st1:place>Seattle</st1:place></st1:City> to <st1:city><st1:place>Pullman</st1:place></st1:City>. The next available one, with empty seats was at <st1:time minute="45" hour="14">2:45 PM</st1:time>, January 12<sup>th</sup> that goes to <st1:city><st1:place>Pullman</st1:place></st1:City> via <st1:city><st1:place>Boise</st1:place></st1:City>. Needless to say, I hate the words Flights, and Airports as of now. </p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-13351069167744137392008-12-09T01:48:00.001-08:002008-12-09T01:50:11.692-08:00My email to VODAFONE, India (bunch of thieves)<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">To whom it may concern,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">I have had a Vodafone (formerly Hutch) connection 9830265234 since the year 2001. I have been in the United States for the past 15 months and before coming to the US, I made my connection into the lifetime connection by paying the requisite amount of money and was told that this number would remain mine irrespective of usage. Indeed, that’s what the word LIFETIME means. Some months ago when I tried calling this number from the US, the Vodafone automated voice message told me that my number was suspended temporarily. Upon contacting Vodafone I was told about some strange rule that I needed to recharge and use Rs. 200 of talktime every 6 months to be able to retain my number. Note that no such rule was pointed out to me when I made my connection a lifetime one. So I decided to take up matters with authorities upon my visit to India to reclaim my number. I even instructed one of my friends to recharge my connection via e-charge for Rs. 200.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">Today when I called my own number again, to my dismay someone else picked up the phone and I realized my number had already been given away to someone else. Now my questions for Vodafone are:</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%; mso-list:l1 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">1.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>Is it fair business practice on the part of you guys to take away someone else’s connection which was made lifetime and duly paid for?</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%; mso-list:l1 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">2.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>What do I have to do to get my connection back?</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%; mso-list:l1 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">3.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>Is it Vodafone’s policy to swindle customers like this?</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%; mso-list:l1 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">4.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>Why was I not informed about my number being given away to someone else? Who takes responsibility if that number is misused by the current owner? What if that person is a terrorist? Do I have a guarantee that I won’t be involved in the fiasco that arises thereafter?</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%; mso-list:l1 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">5.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>What does a person have to do so that his number remains his even if he cannot regularly use the number? </p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%; mso-list:l1 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">6.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>Does this mean that every time I visit India I need to take a new number? Don’t you guys find that ridiculous?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">Now my demands:</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left:38.05pt;mso-add-space: auto;text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo2"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">1.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>First, tender <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>an apology to me directly via email at <a href="mailto:avimanyu.datta@gmail.com">avimanyu.datta@gmail.com</a></p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left:38.05pt;mso-add-space: auto;text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo2"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">2.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>Refund the recharge money that the connection had.</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left:38.05pt;mso-add-space: auto;text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo2"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">3.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>FAILING OPTION 2, return my number to me with the money in it intact.</p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left:38.05pt;mso-add-space: auto;text-indent:-.25in;line-height:115%;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo2"><span style="mso-fareast-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">4.<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span>Admit that your policies are made to cheat customers out of their money,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">Failing any of the above, I will not hesitate to take this up with the consumer court. I will also put Vodafone’s shoddy policies and mismanagement on my blog site (<a href="http://www.avimanyu.blogspot.com/">www.avimanyu.blogspot.com</a>), and make sure that every leading Calcutta newspaper carries the story about what you did. Trust me, I have the contacts to ensure this.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">I hope, for a change, Vodafone will be responsible about owning up to its lack of customer allegiance and that you will be able to solve these issues. Don’t give me the usual nonsensical customer service replies such as “it is our policy” and similar stuff. I want concrete action to be taken. Either refund my money or return my connection plus write me an apology for the harassment caused. Or, get ready for some BAD <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>PUBLICITY.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">Avimanyu <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Datta</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:115%">United States of America</p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-45014487675410490812008-10-23T23:28:00.000-07:002008-10-23T23:29:19.878-07:00Wet Sketches<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cadatta%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" 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The client was happy with our strategic recommendations. This meant more business, more work, more consumption of coffee, more sleepless nights, more work on the weekends. But among all the negativities, there is a silver lining. The tie becomes silkier, the suites become shinier, the laptops become thinner, Nokia N-series get replace by the i-phone, and slowly Timex will transform to Rolex. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">As soon as I loosed my neck tie, I saw people rushing towards the tinted windows. It was the first shower in Calcutta. The sky was deep grey, against which the trees looked greener than they were. I could see the people on the streets, reaching out for the nearest shade. Some however were enjoying the first shower. The street hawkers were packing up. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">My eyes caught sight of a young boy. He was tightly holding a sketch book, protecting it from the rains. He was struggling. He suddenly looked up. For a second I thought he looked into my eyes. 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It was wet…</p> avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-60378525526729039292008-09-27T01:21:00.000-07:002008-09-27T01:23:03.344-07:00Walking alone<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cadatta%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cadatta%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cadatta%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> 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<w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-size:12.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I wish life could be like a shopping cart! While walking with your cart from isle to isle you can you take your picks, and something better comes in, then you return it back. Choices in life are much more complicated. No matter how difficult is the entry barrier exit barriers are always high. I have realized that opportunity cost is a matter of perception more than an economic truth. Fretting over what I have left makes it look larger than when the green pastures of the future are made visible. Sometimes I wish I should have settled for the 9-5 routine, which often becomes 9-forever. And I wish that quite often, because my vision these days is getting blurred. But, when I see the potential of the practical applications of the theoretical constructs, I tell myself, keep walking…if necessary alone. All by myself.... </p> avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-61125215572183398652008-08-15T23:10:00.000-07:002008-08-15T23:11:13.288-07:00Dream on....<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">The perspective of everything changes as we move on from one step to the other. And so does what constitute happiness.<span style=""> </span>Back in school days, my friend and I would spend our pocket allowance and share an ice cream or a plate of Momo (Yon ton or Dumpling) and then walk back from school and pretend that the pain on the feet was due to overexertion on the soccer field. Happiness then was to have enough money in our pockets to afford a plate for each in the gang and still be able to ride a bus home…happiness was about being able to fill another canvas with a composition that has yet to show that the lines between good and bad is often non-existent. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">And with gradual changes in life the innocence got buried in the pursuit of more material things. Choosing an academic area that trains more than it educates became a priority. All that I wanted was to be able to work with consulting firms and be able to help clients strategize. It happened too. And then suddenly all I wanted was to create knowledge, be more daring without worrying about a boss, office politics, or a client. So here I am pursuing my PhD. But as I completed my first year in the program I realized that academia is not all about creating knowledge. The bosses are double blinded images. The clients are invisible reviewers and the knowledge is only good if it is on paper being approved often by the wisdom of the invisible boss and the anonymous clients. <span style=""> </span>The matter of success is a toss of a coin. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">As I walk towards my campus with the equal prospect of success and failure coupled with responsibilities of teaching, studying, writing and researching, all I do is dreaming about sharing a plate of dumpling like back in the days of school. </p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-14075309962530416272008-02-15T15:10:00.001-08:002008-02-15T15:10:37.659-08:00Goodbye...Avi<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">It’s the dawn of August 06, 2007. I will leave home shortly, for a long time. I don’t even know if I will ever return, if I could ever sit on my chair watch the rain outside from glass walls. I have spent so much time in this room.<span style=""> </span>In fact there were so many times I complained about it and now when I am to leave it, I feel that we are inseparable. Me and my room, two blocks of wood that were glued together that when separated, will have bits of one in the other. So in a sense the room symbolized my existence. It gave me all the support that I needed without any complains. I was staring at the wooden wardrobe that tirelessly held the products of my retail therapy. The table that has been the witness of changing computer technology in my room, the chair, which always knew if I was overweight.<span style=""> </span>The French Press, which unstintingly made my caffeine shots. The white mug, I don’t know if I can ever hold it. The bookshelf that witnessed my growing up from reading alphabets to “Competing for the Future”. That chest of drawers, containing the dust gathered letters written by friends whose presence eased my life for fifteen years. I opened the drawer, opened an envelope, I travelled my entire life in a minute. Is it too late? The suitcases are packed, the plane leaves in three hours. What am I leaving for? I am living my life in pursuit of a dream. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">The clock struck 6:30 A.M. <span style=""> </span>I am to leave. I looked back once more. I saw Avi with his white mug drinking coffee staring at the rain, and scribbling on his notebook. He looked at me, with a patronizing smile and went back to watching the rains. I left my room, left the building. It was all sunny. There was no sign of rain. I looked up at the windows of my room. Seemed it was raining inside. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">I am in the waiting lounge in Bangkok Airport now. Have to wait for thirteen hours for the next flight. Lets sketch. I took out my book, and three pencils. But I could not sketch. As if I never could. Its been twenty six years, and I am drawing like someone who held the pencil for the first time…What am I?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-8007970423479588182007-11-12T00:27:00.000-08:002007-11-12T00:28:18.454-08:00The so called Information Systems research: An abode for intellectual mediocrity<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">While some authors say that the plurality of dependent variable is the beauty the rest in order to maintain a distinct just embraced the mediocrity. Information Systems as we see today is the life blood of Modern Corporation where its asymmetry leads to a zero sum game. At the same time IT enabled (driven these days) interorganizational networks and strategic alliances have led to a positive sum game. Such a tool or an artifact is nothing short of the creator of another industrial revolution. As we see the IT enabled economic arbitrage, which is now leading to better quality of service. Further, while numerous article has been written and more proposed and rejected on the social issues of outsourcing, that is a sympathetic stance, towards those who lose their jobs. My view point’s will only make me the weed in the garden populated by pseudo sociologists, who dare call themselves Information Systems Researchers, neglecting the strengths and opportunities brought about by the technology focusing on issues that will never be published in social journals, and so have taken abode in the Information Systems Journals. The sympathetic stance towards job loss as a result of technology wave and opportunistic arbitrage blinds us from seeing the IT enabled focused core competence. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Have they forgotten that the introduction of the assembly line transformed the tailors into button sewers. With the wave of new technology, the structure of society changes, so does the industrial boundaries. Questioning the intent of organization who are pursuing arbitrage through price differentials demeans the discipline of diplomacy. Instead of blaming the winds of change one must embrace it. There is so much to investigate. And what do the majority of the baton holders do? Answering the overtly known postulate of usability and usefulness key determinants to adoption? I ask, would anyone adopt something that is useless and unusable? Further, such simplistic determinants and antecedents of adoption leads us to consider, those technologies that are adopted with human choice, like a cell phone. It undermines the socio-political forces and valances that lead to adoption without much choice such as complex integrated systems like ERPs are often procured as explicated by means of mimetic and normatic isomorphism. The user in order to maintain his job, adopts. Adopters are survivors, rebels must print their resumes. Technology adoption, at least those that impact the society at large are often adopted from the deterministic paradigm of humans, not the voluntarism perspective. <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-65301642160885445882007-11-10T23:10:00.001-08:002007-11-10T23:12:29.464-08:00Miracles ignored in search of Miracle<p class="MsoNormal">In order to investigate the complex, congested and frequently negotiated boundaries between technology and society, ourselves and the rest of the universe, I have discounted all the miracles that surrounded my life. In a quest to be adventurous and investigate the miracles by walking on the path less traveled, all that I see are foot prints that got vanished in the midways. I was surrounded by miracles everyday in my life. Exploring those miracles would not been a path less traveled but rather been a path never traveled. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a miracle that I always had my food ready, when I went to office and came back. It was a miracle that when ever I asked for a packet of coffee it was there. While complaining against the my office it was a miracle that someone listened to me endlessly, though the problem was truly within me. Whereas I had all the opportunities to travel exploring all the nuances of these miracles, I thoughtlessly rejected the<span style=""> </span>postulate that true success comes in being with the ones who make the living distinct from surviving. <span style=""> </span>My <span style=""> </span>desire to attain all those that I did<span style=""> </span>not have alienated me from those that I should have cherished, I had. <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-33254855626161989982007-10-18T14:23:00.000-07:002007-10-18T14:24:09.588-07:00IronyIt’s a cloudy Sunday. I can tell from inside that the wind is blowing. Staying inside an insulated shell, I could still sense the essence of the clouds and the breeze. The coffee started to brew, and I could hear its breathing sound. I poured it…no sugar was added. I had in my hand DiMaggio’s theory piece. The first sip went in. I closed my eyes.<br /><br />“So what’s the problem in Frost?” she asked<br />“Well, they are templatizing creativity, approaching all the problems with similar solutions. No matter what you ask they base their solution on Drivers, Restraints and Challenges”.<br />“ Whats to you? Just do come home and forget it”<br />“ That’s where we part ways? If I don’t get that intellectual satisfaction, if I am not challenge enough (not multiple type questions)…its not worth it”<br />“ You know I am with you right?”<br />“ Yes”<br /><br />I opened the eyes, all that I have with me is DiMaggio’s theory piece. The Barista store could not make it to Pullman. Nor could the idiosyncrasies that were quintessential in the store. Ironically I am studying the links that connect the nodes. I have ignored the nodes all my life.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-87597711078471867092007-08-20T09:15:00.000-07:002007-08-22T10:08:12.874-07:00Back to where it makes sense: Does it?<p class="MsoNormal">I have fought the battle against my own wish, not to go, the urge to take the next flight to Calcutta from Bangkok after reading a letter. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Now I am returning my abode (can’t call it a home still) after a long day in the sprawling campus with red buildings contrasting the green grass and trees. I have debated to those issues that I always wanted to. I am with those who value my thinking rather than my position, yet when I see the Peet’s coffee my instinct tells me not to buy it. Perhaps the best brewed coffee is sold a mile from my abode and I refuse to buy it. Even a few months back I would have spent anything for a pack of Peet’s, but suddenly (not so sudden), the meaning of coffee transformed. Drinking coffee is something like success, where its true laurels are found being with those that matter. And now as the bus takes turn from the Business School towards the house I see children play, friends saying bye with the promise to meet up for the evening beer and the couples fighting and sharing their struggle, I ask what constitutes happiness?</p><p class="MsoNormal">When I was working with Frost, AMI I cursed each day of my life where nothing made sense; reporting to intellectually challenged individuals, applauding the galactically stupid postulations and come home exhausted, sleep and live for another day. But then, those who mattered were just a phone call away. The friend of seventeen years, the buddy who saw through my sketches, and the one who listens to all my tribulations 24*7. Now I am in a place where I am not judged whether I am wearing my tie, if my shirt is ironed and starched, and the looks of the powerpoint rather than the elegance of the solution, yet when the sun rises, when it hides behind the clouds, when it sets, when the evening engulfs the sun, I think what have I done? There is so much I wish to say…face to face. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I wish to talk about the beauty of the campus, I wish to speak on the droplets on the leaves …but I can’t. So what do I do with a pack of Peet’s? I touched the pack, squeezed and smelt the fresh beans and in a split second I was reminded of what’s not with me. Peet’s back to the shelve. </p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-87905288804613998422007-07-30T22:40:00.000-07:002007-07-31T00:02:43.313-07:00Sweet Taste of CoffeeDuring a rigorous semester (Spring 2002) that comprised over seventy two submissions over three and a half months strong black coffee seemed (and later proved )to be the only element that could rob me from my necessary pastime. I was in Hawaii. Hawaii is the home of KONA coffee. Since my earnings were limited, I had to learn to brew on a nine-dollar Procter Silex drip coffee maker. And because of the same reason I bought the economical brands: Yuban, MJB, Don Frisco and Hill Brothers. The day of paycheck receipt was different though. Specialty coffee from Peet’s, Starbucks, Seattle’s best all founds its way to the never say die shopping cart.<br /><br />During those days, I was deeply moved by two basic forms of innovations in the disk drive industry. They are component-based innovations and architectural based innovations. The former was immensely experimented in terms of brewing coffee. Arabica VS Robusta, Indonesian VS South American, Dark Roasted VS Mild Roasted…there was no end to it. Buying an espresso maker or a Bodum French Press (for architectural innovations) was out of question for someone like me who was then living out of a twenty hour per week job as a library assistant.<br /><br />I came back to Indian in March 2004. I wanted to bring some specialty coffee from Hawaii but my luggage was getting heavier so I had to return them to the stores. After coming back, I found brewing coffee was a real challenge. Ground coffee sold in Café Cofee Day (Dark Foret, Arabica) was grinded like talcum powder and the roast was not dark enough. The same held true for Barista. The shopping malls sold drip coffee maker but paper coffee filters were not available. The salesmen insisted on me using tissue papers but that imparts its smell on the coffee. After getting a decent job, I bought an Indian Coffee Press from Café Cofee Day and a French Press from Barista. While the small pores in the Indian Press was jamming the flow of the liquid, with French Press the sediments came straight to the cup. So I had to increase the size of the pores in one and use a second sieve in the other. So now when I need a clear cup of coffee I use the Indian Press (which takes longer) and when I need a very strong coffee I use the French Press.<br /><br />Although the coffee never tasted like the ones I had in Hawaii, I started enjoying my efforts and moreover the company I had to coffee. The discussions ranging from Politics to game theory, from personal choices to diffusions of IT innovations and sometimes the sheer silence added flavor to the cups in Calcutta. Whether brewed by Barista, CCD or simply by me, coffee in Calcutta attained sweetness on its own.<br /><br />My friends and acquaintances when travel keep sending me Startbucks on occasions and so I don’t miss the dark roasted full bodies coffee. Sadly, now my bags are getting packed and I will leave once again to pursue my ambition leaving my dreams and life back to the city of Joy. But one thing I know for sure I won’t quest for the sweetness of coffee in Calcutta. For I know, that will be a quest in vain.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-46871376797992947702007-07-25T12:48:00.000-07:002007-07-30T22:37:07.753-07:00Glowworm, Innocence and PhDLast night right after switching off the lights, I saw a glowworm. In the generation where we feel mostly connected with things like i-pods, Tri-bands, IEEE 802.11(Wireless LAN or Wifi) a glowworm may not have much significance. After all a generation later these creatures could only be found in textbook chapters on extinct species.<br /><br />There was however a time during the monsoon season the post shower evenings were filled with these fascinating creatures that did much more than lighting when the streetlights failed or in places where there were none. They acted as the key to our imagination unlocking a world of fantasy whose explanation may never befit the course description designed to make us work like robots wearing uniform, and where creativity is templatized.<br /><br />After finishing my master’s degree in information systems, I returned to India from the US. At the time I had only one thing on my mind. Get into a decent PhD program and leave the country where the traffic movements in green lights were not significantly different from the ones in red. I started to apply for Doctoral programs. I started to get offers. Ironically, I kept rejecting them. Over a period, I started to grow used to the city, its people, and miraculously I started to take the pencil and began to sketch after many years. I started to get back my innocence. At the same time, the environment surrounding my job became politicized. Changing the jobs did not really help because all were almost equally bad. I knew that if I am to stay in this city and nourish the long lost sketch and me who can paint I have to not only survive the political environment in corporate life but also have to get proactively involved in the same. Thus, I became compelled to take the next PhD offer. I took the offer because of my passion to investigate the impact of KM systems on ambidexterity and my rage against corporate slavery.<br /><br />And so I started the long ordeal of traveling millions of miles away from home. Home, the word has so many meanings. It’s a place where one returns form work to find shelter and warmth. I say it’s an abode that maximizes the psychological comfort zones even against the minimal physical luxuries. In fact it’s a place where glowworms come and say “ hello”.<br /><br />While the glow worm sat in my room it constantly reminded me of the journey in the world of colors on canvas and papers from acrylic, oil and pastels. A journey propelled by engines fueled by innocence. And the suddenly the glowworm flew away. I tried to look outside the room but the streetlights were glowing and its innocent glow was eclipsed. Why did the glowworm come? To bid farewell to my dying innocence that has some breath left but will not survive the thoughtfully crafted thoughtless research that links KM systems and ambidexterity.<br /><br />I am leaving all that’s close to me in pursuit of a dream. What kind of a dream is that?avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-10202766150488176432007-06-28T02:59:00.000-07:002007-07-30T23:36:18.919-07:00Ice cream SellerMy balcony gives a terrific view of the outside world. Few months back I covered the balcony with glass so that I can keep the doors open. I can view the welcome shower and how the water transform a sweat dripping depressed face to a wet happy one.<br /><br />I also see how a father protects his infant under his jacket, how the kids jump on the flooded streets. I also see an ice-cream wallah (ice cream seller) trying to push his three wheeled (two large in front and one small at the back) trolley against the watery streets.<br /><br /><em>Back then when I was in school the ice-cream wallah brought smile in our faces. School used to get over around noontime and with those few coins saved from pocket money, we bought our fortunes, an orange ice cream candy or a choco bar. Upon enquiring on my sore throat if I had ice cream the answer would always be negative.<br /><br />We all lied to protect our sense of freedom, a self indulged reward for a “hard day” in school. And under the shade of the ice cream trolley we learnt to share. There were some who could not afford and we would gladly share.<br /></em><br /><br />Today the ice-cream wallah is an old man. He was pushing hard towards a primary school, which is due to get over in noon. He does not understand why the kids don’t come to him anymore. Yesterdays kids are today’s parents. When a loving father asked his daughter, “ Want an inecream?” The answer was swift and prompts, “I would rather have a Baskin Robbins.”avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-75399365829167649012007-04-25T22:42:00.000-07:002007-04-25T22:50:32.803-07:00Its not the Gun. Its the Society that controls the mind which controls the Gun<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The Society victimizes a man. He pulls out and shoots, and victimizes lives, and becomes a criminal. Who is the Criminal. The man or the Society?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> (Avimanyu, April 26, 2007) <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The mass murder in Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University (VT) has once again rose the debate, “ Should we or should we not possess weapons?”.<span style=""> </span>I will ask a different question. Does possession of weapons mean that the owner should look for an excuse to shoot. I don’t think so. A weapon (gun, here) is an enabler not a driver to crime. The driver, I am afraid is much more dangerous. And making<span style=""> </span>an enabler look like a driver we are actually deviating ourselves from the key question, which is what really drives crime. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">We should actually find out the independent variables that led to Cho to Pull the trigger. And why only Cho, all those who actually pulls the trigger, we must ask that question. I am saying that the roots of the crime is not possessing the weapons, rather the society. In basing our thoughts towards weapon possession we are only escaping from the crux and looking for a band aiding solution to a serious problem with deep roots<b>. It is not about the gun or the finger that pulls the trigger. It’s about the mind that controls the finger and the society that influences the mind.</b> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The reason behind sanctioning individuals with weapons are same as empowering people of Okinawa with martial art lessons. (Please note that a strong punch by an expert martial artist can blow punches that can be equally dangerous as bullets from a pistol). It is self defense. If criminals can possess weapons why not innocent people for self-defense ? An man remains innocent till the point he pulls his trigger. Anyone who pulls trigger does so out of rage towards the society for his experiences or out of self-defense. And pulling put of rage is also a self-defense against the society. If the driver towards pulling the trigger is strong, someone will do the killing anyway, should he or not possess a gun. A kitchen knife should have sufficed. So what would be the debate next time. Should we be legally allowed to posses kitchen knives?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is a difference in buying a gun and the pulling the trigger. The difference is the society which often compels the possessor to pull the trigger. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It works like this: </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;">Method 1</span>. A man buys a gun for self-defense. Keeps it with himself. The man is victimized by the society and its elements. He loads and shoots. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;">Method 2</span>. He has no gun. He is victimized by the society and its elements. He goes to buy gun. If he gets then he shoots. If he is denied then</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 21pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->a.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->He takes some other weapon like a kitchen knife</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 21pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->b.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->He steals gun. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 21pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->c.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Kills himself</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But he will not pacify for the reasons for which<span style=""> </span>he goes to buy a gun is not often too moderate to forget if the weapon is unavailable. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For all we know the victims in a mass murder case could also be owners of guns. But the society did not drive them toward taking those out of drawers and load them and put in the trouser pocket. The criminal (or the victim of the society) found the reason. </p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-10910503365741517882007-04-05T22:30:00.000-07:002007-04-05T22:31:40.878-07:00MBAs: Drained Brains<o:p></o:p>What is the aspiration that drives a top engineering student in <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> to get into a business school? Is it entrepreneur zeal? Could be. Or is it the understanding of how business systems work. Maybe. Is it the salary and boost in marriage market? Most Probably. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">A vast majority of Engineering colleges are used as a path toward MBA. This has huge negative consequences towards our society. Let us consider a mechanical engineering student, joining IIT, and getting through, using the degree to join IIM and later on make strategies to sell shampoos and soaps. <b>Friends do we need a strategy to sell soaps and shampoos? I don’t think so. I am giving my free consulting idea here. If you gotta sell shampoos, oils, talcum powder try to get the average heights of the purchasers region wise. Now the competition between brands will be a matter of keeping them on the shelve that corresponds to the heights of the consumer. No brand ambassadors are needed. With this idea I am just saving Millions of Dollars that companies spend in endorsing celebrities to sell soaps. I could come with this idea because my mind hasn’t been slowed by an expensive MBA degree whose contents can be understood with a Rs.100 membership/month in a public librar</b>y. <b>Besides MBAs teach to templatize creativity<o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Now let’s come to the crux. When an Engineer goes for an MBA to sell soaps, the country loses an engineer and a useless manager is created. Let’s take the example of Pepsi and Coke (the drink that does more harm that cocaine). When Amir Khan comes and says the constituent ingredients of Coke are harmless, means that drink is not harmful. I am sure this piece of information is scripted by an MBA with limited thinking capacity. I believe whoever wrote that must go back to standard VI and see that the constituent elements of sugar and petrol are same. Carbon, Hydrogen and Oxygen, to be precise. Since we eat sugar, can we also drink petrol (according to the script)? I have always known that actors in this country are people with limited intelligence, but the same holds for the marketing people here. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Lets turn to MIT, CALTECH, Stanford once. The best of the engineers don’t work for Procter and Gamble but usually joins Los Alamos Lab , DoD, or get to doctoral level research. What they come up with? Almost everything. From Rayban aviators to antidandruff shampoos (which our MBAs sell) to weapons. I don’t say that engineers from these institute don’t join B–schools, the bests don’t. But the vast majority of students who do so for entrepreneual ambitions. The companies formed by MIT – Sloan’s Alumni alone constitute the 24<sup>th</sup> largest economy in the world. IIM with its focus for strategizing soap selling cannot reach there. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The more MBAs India produces we are pushed towards the demand side of world <i>terrorism and consumerism</i> (they are almost the same thing). The weapons and toys that they build are often sold in here, coz here the engineers won’t build them, but instead relax in their AC rooms, with bulging belly and making power point presentation on an industry they know nothing about. This also has a link with the system of arranged marriage. An MBA is often a key to increased boost in the marriage market which often competes on the norms of any competitive market. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Keeping all these in mind if <st1:country-region><st1:place>USA</st1:place></st1:country-region> decides that the tension between <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Pakistan</st1:place></st1:country-region> would boost its weapon sales, if the lack pollution will increase sales of antidandruff shampoos, so be it. Coz we are a market a mere market, coin by our engineers who sell soaps.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-39038611284857034662007-03-18T22:19:00.000-07:002007-03-19T08:47:08.610-07:00FILMFARE Awards: a Breeding Ground of Mediocrity<p class="MsoNormal">Few days back a Professor* of a business school in <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>, told me that they are on their way to become a <st1:place><st1:placename>Harvard</st1:placename> <st1:placename>Business</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>School</st1:placetype></st1:place>. I asked how? The answer was comical. We are building a similar campus. Well is it the campus that makes <st1:place><st1:placename>Harvard</st1:placename> <st1:placename>Business</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>School</st1:placetype></st1:place> what it is now. Or the business schools that have got similar success in research and MBA programs emulated its campus? The answer is NO. It’s the quality of teachers and students that make the difference. Teachers like Porter, Christensen, Ghemawat, and Nohria, creating Ranjay Gulati, Rajat Gupta etc. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><br />This year the filmfare emulated the Oscars. Well in terms of dress code and stage design. It ends pretty much there! In the Oscars we don’t see Tobey McGuire, Christen Bell, Brandon Routh getting nominated in the best actors categiry (be it leading or supporting) for their portrayal of Spiderman, Batman and Superman, respectively. Let alone win it. We also don’t see Viggo Mortenssen getting nominated for his portrayal of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Aragon</st1:place></st1:country-region> in Lord of the Rings. Not that the actors are short of merit, but the roles and its attributes did not qualify for the best actors in leading and supporting categories. So despite The “Return of the King”(the third installment of the Trilogy of J.R.R.Tolkien’s Screen play adaptation of<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>“ Lord of the Rings”) <span style="font-size:0;"></span>banging twelve Oscars, the actors who got the awards for acting<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>were <span style="font-size:0;"></span>Sean Penn and Tim Robbins in Clint Eastwood’s “The Mystic River”. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><br />This year Hrittik Roshan gets the leading actors award in Filmfare. Now he could be a talented actor, but does his role in Dhoom 2 entail him with the the <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> version of <st1:place><st1:placetype>Academy</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>Motion Picture</st1:placename></st1:place>, Arts and Sciences? In my view the answer is NO. Such recognition in fact even the nomination of Sharhruk Khan's portrayal of a beaten football player is nothing than being a breeding ground of mediocrity. Let’s forget about being a mediocre actor anyone looking at the penalty shot can tell that those are not a footballer’s legs. In the Indian film industry the actor’s persona becomes the prime portrayal in any character they intend to play. The character itself becomes a faint shadow of the actors’ persona. And recognition of such average quality work makes the Filmfare, a breeding ground of mediocrity. We don’t see any similarity of Maximus and Professor Nash, played by Russel Crowe, we also don’t see any similarity Forrest Gump and Michael Sullivan (Road to Perdition), both played by Tom Hanks. But Emperor Ashoka and the Footballer looked the same. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><br />One cannot become Harvard by emulating the campus; similarly, one cannot become the Oscars with black and white theme. There is more to the game than what meets the eye.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><span style="font-size:0;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>* PROFESSOR: The Word professor in prestigious academic institution is synonymous with an indisputable knowledge in a field. It is used to refer to someone who has contributed to the development of a field if not creating it. The word here often means a job of teaching in a college and taking tuitions explaining what is written in textbooks. <o:p></o:p></i></p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-89792207383906916292007-03-13T22:09:00.000-07:002007-03-13T22:25:04.268-07:00Welcome to KPO: The World of Templatized creativity!<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">There was a time when experts were really worth their salt. For instance, if someone has to do consulting for oil and gas (O&S), Information Communication Technology (ICT), or Automotive, he had to develop an expertise in that field. More like a lawyer or a doctor. The expertise came from a blend of education and of course experience. The highest ranked experts stayed in academics went on to create path breaking theories and changed the course of human lives. Another category practiced the subject. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Now suddenly there was this Knowledge Process Outsourcing (KPO). Let me ask two simple questions?</p> <ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">What constitutes knowledge?</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Why should/shouldn’t it be outsourced?</li></ol> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p><br />Lets throw some light. The works of Gary Hamel, Clayton Christensen states that core competence should be where organizations must invest continuously. This competency would not only safeguard against discontinuous environmental changes but also will<span style=""> </span>strengthen the foundations. Now some of the examples are Honda in designing engines, Intel in designing and manufacturing chips.<span style=""> </span>So believe me these innovative tasks will NEVER BE OUTSOURCED. So that Knowledge Part of the KPO can easily be taken off. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p><br />So what kind of expertise do KPOs are leveraging on? Well Lets assume a law firm. Final year students intern under lawyers and learn among many things writing legal briefs. Believe me its not easy. But with increased pressure some of the content gets outsourced.(Remember they will not outsource the core activities). Now in <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> someone who has a Bachelor of Commerce degree and wants to buy a fancy motor bike for whatever reasons gets to the world of KPO. Remember this KPO will not employee law students for writing briefs but will take Commerce, Literature graduates. Why? Saves money. So what’s the selection criterion? “Hey you know how to use the Google?” Answer: Yes. BINGO. You have a job. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p><br />And so we are putting up a face where we try to fake that we are intelligent. Its like some Indian Actors scratching their heads in the same manner as Tom Hanks does. The story does not end here. The KPO model is also adopted by some consulting firms. Instead of taking people with astute knowledge on industry they take people with Google searching skills coupled with the ones required to make cold calls (credit card salesperson). And then starts saga of writing thousands of research reports without a morsel of innovative idea. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The day may not be far when Medical representatives will be analyzing Vaccine Markets and car mechanics will be comparing<span style=""> </span>engine designs. And not to mention they will also devise a got to market strategies. In order to analyze two modes or heart or eye operations, consulting firms will not ask expert physicians. Instead they will recruit anyone from any background, but the necessary skill set= Google Search! Talent and expertise has transformed to skill set! </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-45424596927678331342007-03-02T11:39:00.000-08:002007-03-03T11:00:10.004-08:00Washed Footprints!I was walking down the narrow lanes; again wearing an outfit that resembles the whitest lies civilization taught us. To wear a mask, and to pretend. And the Austin Reed suit was really good in its job. I sat inside Barista and started sipping by double shot espresso Italiano. I opened my Notebook and started to punch numbers and make a power point about an industry in which I am supposed to be an expert.<br /><br />Outside I saw a boy. Just across the street, sipping tea in a roadside tea-stall. I just started walking towards him. The bartender shouted…Avi…Mr. Avimanyu. Nothing was making sense. How could that be? I crossed the road. The boy was looking at me. He was about eighteen years, chubby cheeks. Smiled at me as though I made a Faux Pas. I asked him, “ who are you”. He answered promptly “ I am Avimanyu” . I told him I am Avimanyu too. He said “ I am you”. “Can I see that?”, I asked him pointing out the sketchbook that he was holding. “Sure”. So I opened and saw the sketches.<br /><br />I did not say bye. I went to Barista and paid and took a taxi home. Went to my Chest. Opened the drawer, that was not opened in many years. I even forgot for how many years. Took out a dusty sketchbook. Cleaned it. The same sketches…<br /><br />Have I walked to far from which there is no return? I see no footprints.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-6820658871041229952007-03-02T03:16:00.000-08:002007-03-02T03:17:56.521-08:00Shrinking Horizons!!!Not very long back the dreams that resided in my mind resembled the smell of wet clay on green grass after the first shower. The mind was imaginative and pure, and the rains poured the caffeine to my imagination. And caffeine itself made me so creative. The ingenious thoughts ranged the understanding the “persistence of memory” and debating with friends on its application to our lives. I used to think on what constituted the enigmatic anatomy of what Professor Hamel called the “grey haired revolutionary”( long lived firms).<br /><br />And then the obvious happened. I graduated. The jeans were transformed to Pin stripes. The neck tie clogged my thoughts. THE WHOLE WORLD WITH THE HORIZONS BECAME A 17 INCH MONITOR. The coffee shop ideas became PowerPoint presentations. Then I used to worry about how to sustain economic developments. Now I worry about my Tax returns. As I am writing this passage its not the empty canvas that’s in my mind, but why has my company deducted my taxes so suddenly.<br /><br />Is this transformation worth it? What forms this transformation? Why do we lose that bigger picture? Why do we stop loving people and start loving material possessions. Is the pin stripe the “one Ring” that suits the Sauron and destroys us from our core values? Who is Sauron?avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-14497413840342960442007-02-25T22:47:00.000-08:002007-02-25T22:49:49.057-08:00Model against Economics of Bribe: Traffic Police ScenarioThis is a response to the Blog titled “<a href="http://abigyawn.blogspot.com/2007/02/economics-of-bribe.html">The Economics of Bribe</a>” found in <a href="http://abigyawn.blogspot.com/">http://abigyawn.blogspot.com/</a> . The Author mentioned that a Law Enforcers slary should be a function of the variable x plus a Constant C.<br /><br />Or f(y) = fx + C<br /><br />Where y= the law enforcers Salary<br />x= the incentive/bribe derived from catching a lawbreaker<br />C= Constant, or the basic salary he receives from the government irrespective of number of law breakers<br />The value of f(x) if touches or exceeds X (value paid by the law breaker to the govt for breaking law) the cop makes nothing because the entire money goes to the govt. In this model, the only economic incentive the cop will derive is to charge a bribe an amt that the law breaker will be happy to pay and buy his pardon. So the traffic condition is not improved. Law breakers keep breaking, Cops are happy (thanks to the lack of economic incentive to catch law breakers).<br /><br />So how can the government throw some incentive for the cops to catch the law breakers who break traffic laws? Lets assume that the cost of breaking the law is Rs. 2000(X) and a challan is issued. A cop takes a bribe of Rs. 100. This is 5% of Rs. 2000.<br />The variable component for a cop would then be:<br />5/100(X)<br />So the entire salary be<br />f(y) = m[5/100(X)] + C<br />Where m = number of law breakers caught.<br /><br />Now who pays for the percentage incentive? The law breakers themselves.<br />The revised challan would be X’= 1.05 (X) taking the 5% incentive.<br /><br />But this model has a flaw too. The cops would only like to work in areas where lawbreakers travel, such as locations near Campuses (students w/o liscences) crowded crossings etc, where the probability of m will increase. In othetwise peaceful places they will be less motivated to work.<br /><br />So lets add another variable h. h = hours. The new model<br /><br />F(x) = m[5/100(X)] + g[5/100(X)] + C<br /><br />Value of g can be calculated from the number of challan issued and average 5 mins / clallan. Minus this from the total duty hours.<br /><br />If m rises g falls.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004339437718470919.post-82651541884934948942007-02-23T00:56:00.000-08:002007-02-23T00:57:58.746-08:00Thoughtless thoughtsWalking down the green meadows often the reflection of the clouds and the sky is felt on the road like that of the life that can incrust in a droplet of tears. But what is it we do while we walk? …. What occupies our mind? Missed Opportunities? The coffee we never had and the near perfect life that was missed coz I thought that painting was a better way to spend my time than slogging through the Brilliant Tutorial’s IIT Guide.<br /><br />The thought of all these missed opportunities are nothing but those cracks and the potholes on the roads, which distorts the reflection. What is that reflection? That reflection is a symbolic representation of the intense happiness I received when I was about three years old and my father has built a paper boat, which I made to float in a small lake and I was happy imagining that I am on that boat living a life larger than what the probabilistic outcomes of academic and professional success would bring. That reflection is an expression how the human mind can harbor immense imagination. Thoughts of missed opportunities and deviations from the near perfect love, life, job, education, money will only make the existing things worse. Its like calculating the probability of ones death with every forward step, “walking forward and sleepwalking backwards”.<br /><br />Keeping this in mind I believe that walking is a great thing to do and one must keep walking. Walking will make you discover the smell of love, and fulfillment in each sip from freshly grounded Italian Roasted Espresso brewed coffee will offer.avimanyuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04471366444152232040noreply@blogger.com2