Hush... Its a secret!

Year 2008 would be remembered as the year of bailouts and pink slips. However, it was not long ago when Human resources were the prized possessions, that was an era when M&As, "attrition fears" and "retentions strategies" were the buzzwords. It was during that time when my chum Saurabh, an (MBA/7)¹ degree holder introduced me to the widely used but rarely discussed retention strategy-rumor. In many of the organizational behavior texts, grapevine is cited as one of the weapons in the armory of any manager, but I mistook it for a sling shot where in fact it is a bazooka.

Let me try to present my point in a form of a play.Our actors are:

1. Guys whose KRAs include maintaining low attrition rate while keeping the cost to the company low. Collectively, we will call them the Mafia.

2. Guys who think Mafia is their friend, we will call them Gofers. Only wise men know that Mafia is nobody's pal, but Gofers are no wise men, they just think they are.

3. Smartasses, the guys who have seen enough of Mafia to see through it now.

4. Nitwits, the guys who believe everything they hear.

Play Starts:

Scene 1
21st Jul 2008 11:00 AM
Gofer 1: (The guy in HR, chosen by Mafia to print the salary revision letter) Thinking, this year I will personally handle the printing of salary revision letters, last year as well everyone knew each others salary even before letters were distributed. He gets Gofer 2 in IT to connect a printer directly to his computer. He issues the print command but no printouts appear from the printer, he calls up Gofer 2 again to troubleshoot.

Outside in the main working area: A constant hiss of printer throwing papers attracts Smartass 1. Smartass 1 quickly calls out to Smartass 2, they have just hit the jackpot. (Gofer 1 got a printer attached to his computer but did not change his default printer settings).

Scene 2
11:30 AM
Smartass 1 meets Smartass 3 at the water dispenser.

Smartass 1: "Letters are slotted to be distributed today, the increment is paltry."
Smartass 3: "What? How do you know?"
Smartass 1: "Gofer 1 was printing the letters, we got hold of the booty."
Smartass 3: "Wow, thats some news, chalo let me spread the word, I will catch you later."

Scene 3:
There are hushes everywhere in the office regarding the letters.

Scene 4:
5:45 PM
Mafia distributes the letter at 5:45 PM, 15 mins prior to closing time to ensure that Smartasses don't get time to make hoopla of things.

With each letter distributed the tension in the premises starts growing. Gofers bear a look of devastation for they have been cheated, not given the deserved return for their loyalty. Nitwits start calling their managers in their previous organizations to revive the contacts. Smartasses saw it coming so they had already introduced surreptitious bugs in their code at such instances that would ensure a few on site trips.

Scene 5:
9:00 AM 22nd Jul 08
Nitwit 1,2 and 3 have decided they would confront their respective Managers, Mafia 1,2 and 3 about how upset they are about the raise they have received despite the hard work they have put throughout the year and that the organization has delayed the appraisal promised in April to Jul thereby slowing down their career growth, and that they will now look for alternatives to bring their career back on the fast track.

Scene 6:
Nitwit 1 sitting with Mafia 1
Nitwit 2 sitting with Mafia 2
Nitwit 3 sitting with Mafia 3

Nitwit 1: "Sir, I am disappointed by the raise I have received."
Mafia 1: "But I think you are in the high raise percentage bracket."
Nitwit 1: Elated, still keeping a straight face, "but sir, my package was already very low so in absolute terms I have been offered peanuts".
Mafia 1: "See Nitwit, money is not everything, the kind of work we are doing at this center is so niche that you should really concentrate on amassing as much product knowledge as possible, and money would follow on its own"
Nitwit 1: "But sir, this is what you told me last year also and besides I joined at a very low package and people with same experience level as mine are getting much more than me"
Mafia 1: "You should have taken an informed decision at the time of joining, I will try for a salary correction for you but cannot promise anything"
Nitwit 1: "Sir, you told me this last time also, I may not have patience to wait for another year"
Mafia 1: "You are upset right now, so I advice you to not take any rash decision, let me talk to the management and I will get back to you"

A similar conversation ensues between Mafia 2 and Nitwit 2, and Mafia 3 and Nitwit 3.

When Nitwits leave Mafias' room they are fuming and determined its time to put themselves up for sale in the open market.

Scene 7:
Nitwits meet over for drinks to gulp down their moments of professional devastation.

Nitwit 1: "As*h*le tells me money is not important, appreciate the work, I felt like telling him, you take all my work and let me have all your money".
Nitwit 2 and 3: Nodding profusely, bearing an expression explaining I know what you mean.
Nitwit 1 continues: "I have talked to the guys in my previous company, they would be more than glad to have me back"
Nitwit 2: "Wow!, are they hiring? Can you refer me too?"
Nitwit 3: "Me too?"
Nitwit 1: Smirking,"Oh! of course send me your CVs first thing tomorrow and I will send them across"

chitter-chatter and bitching about the Mafia continues. In the meantime beer keeps vanishing with an amazing show of how the human bladder can process some beerages (oops.. beverages) faster to allow the penetration of liquid motivation in the system.

They conclude, determined to quit ASAP.

Scene 8:
Grapevine kicks in.
Nitwits meet at the water dispenser.

Nitwit 2: "I've mailed you my CV, do forward it to your previous company."
Nitwit 1: "Consider it done."
Gofer 1 overhears the Nitwits, and calls up other Gofers for an important information he has to share over fag.
Gofer 1: "Nitwits are planning a revolt."
Gofer 2: "Shouldn't we join them too, after all we have been duped."
Gofer 3: "Nitwits on my floor are planning a revolt too, and I think Gofer 2 is correct, we too, should join them, after all we have been duped."

Rumor begins:
Scene 9:
Gofers meet the Mafia.
Gofer: "Nitwits are contemplating a mutiny."
Mafia: "What? Why?"
Gofer: "The appraisals have been very discouraging, inflation is more than appraisal in some cases."
Mafia: Making up a story already, "Oh! did I not mention about the mid term appraisals?"
Gofer: Suddenly intrested, "What, hell no?"
Mafia: "Of course, we have hired a top consulting firm to do a market survey for us, and a salary correction is underway based on the outcome of the survey. But hey!, keep it to yourself, its a secret."
Gofer: Thinking, wow! it pays to be a gofer, I know what none of the nitwits know.

Scene 10:
Gofer acting as the epicenter of knowledge, the ultimate heir of power.

Nitwits discussing the progress on their plan over a tobacco break, while the Gofer joins in.
Gofer: "So guys, excited about the midterm?"
Nitwits: Gawking at each other and then at the Gofer, "Midterm?"
Gofer: Playing along, "Oh! you don't know?, its nothing anyways."
Nitwits: Dying for the priced information that they have been deprived of, "Oh c'mon, tell us."
Gofer: Enjoying the teaser he is playing, "No boys, really its nothing."
Nitwits: Putting up a serious face now, "hey! you can trust us, we are not going to tell anyone."
Gofer: "Okay, but remember, its a secret, keep it to yourself. The midterm is planned in Oct, 15-20% at least." (Putting his own experience to attach a quantitative tag to the information).
Nitwits: Quickly calculating the impact on their own salaries, "man! tell me you are not kiddin."
Gofer: "Of course I am not, but boys keep it to yourself. Chalo, catch ya."

Scene 11:
Gofers meet more Nitwits, Nitwits meet fellow Nitwits and the secret is passed on with the promise that it shall not be passed on further.

Scene 12:
Nitwits meet again for drinks.

Nitwit1: "Boy! 15%, in just 3 months time. I say, we should stick till then, amass the booty thats coming and then put ourselves for sale with renewed priced tag."
Nitwit 2 & 3 Nodding in agreement while Nitwit 1 continues with the gyan he has to offer.
Nitwit 1: "It pays to put the pressure on the top guys, we should have talked tough the last time itself, amazing results it can yield."

They conclude with the decision to wait till Oct.

Scene 13:
30th Oct 2008:
Nitwits ambush the Gofer.
Nitwit 1: "What happened to the midterm."
Gofer: "Awe man!, red tape you know, its coming soon. HR dude is not in town, he is supposed to sign the revision letters."
Nitwit2: "Whaaa? Am sure there is a backup guy to act in his absence."
Gofer: "He too ain't available."
Nitwit1: "So how long do you see it streching?"
Gofer: "Ummm, 2 weeks, give or take a couple of days."

Gofer passed on the data fed to him by the Mafia, Nitwits satisfied that they have not been duped, while Mafia enjoying the results of their well hatched rumor.

Scene 14:
20th Nov 2008:
Nitwits ambush the Gofer again.
Nitwit 1: "What happened to the midterm."
Gofer: "Based on the latest inputs provided by your respective managers and looking at the current market scenario the data is being normalized, would take another couple of weeks."
Nitwit2: "What crap?"
Gofer: "Telling you all I know."
Nitwit 1: "What is the news, I hope the figure is still 15-20%."
Gofer: "Top guys say going by the current market scenario it could be somewhere between 10-15%."

Nitwits disappointed by the mathematics of it, but accept it considering the prevailing market scenario.

Scene 15:
15th Dec 2008:
Gofer is seen much too less around the hangouts for long now. Nitwits ambush the Gofer yet again.
Nitwit 1: "What happened to the midterm."
Gofer: "Layoffs in the European centers, Indian budget too has been cut short.Looks like only 5% is coming now."
Nitwits frozen to death, rush for a tobacco break to comfort each other. The decision is made, time to ambush the Mafia now.

Scene 16:
Nitwits: "What's happening with the midterm?"
Mafia: "Midterm? We don't understand?"
Nitwits: Shocked, "there was a midterm planned, so we hear."
Mafia: "No we don't have any such news, where is it coming from?"
Nitwits: Finding words difficult to come out of their throats. "Oh!, maybe we are just misinformed, sorry."

Scene 17:
Nitwits gather again for the drinks ritual. Followed by the usual swearing the Mafia and comforting each other, it is decided that they should wait for the annual appraisal which is barely a quarter away now, amass the booty and put themselves up for sale.

In the meantime, Smartasses are sent on site to investigate the sporadic output experienced on high load.

Mafia achieves its KRA of keeping the CTC low while ensuring low attrition.


1. Almost completed his first sem.

Thriving on terror!

Smoke emitting from the dome of Taj Mahal Hotel, this is an image that would be permanently tattooed on our minds alongside the image of an Airplane crashing into WTC towers.

It is a new face of terror that the world is not yet equipped to handle. Not new because of its guerrilla nature, Kashmiris are facing such wrath for years now. Not new because terrorists are equipped with GPS, SatPhones, Blackberry and AK 56; new because it is a thriving industry now.

I was discussing with one of my colleagues where does all the funding come from, for such meticulously planned and executed projects (projects, that we call acts of terror). Apart from the funds required to amass the ammo and the gadgets, there are other expenditures as well- training, bribing, salaries of trainers, salaries of project managers, salaries of workers.

One explanation could be, this expenditure is actually an investment, with a promise of strong ROI. To clarify the point further here are some facts, post 9/11, United Airlines’ shares experienced a price drop of 43% while American Airlines’ parent company, AMR, registered a stock price drop of 39%. This translates into ~200% profit in a single day for someone putting a short on United Airlines shares, hmm!

Indian Hotels, the group that owns Taj Mahal Hotel suffered 17% fall in its stock prices post 11/26, which translates into 83% profit in a single day for someone putting a short on 11/25. Similar was the case with other stocks associated with travel and tourism.

Interestingly JW Marriot has been targeted twice by terrorists, once in year 2003 in Indonesia and then in year 2008 in Pakistan.

If terrorism is indeed pursued as an economic activity and if our security agencies fail to overpower this new business empire, we may see de-listing of currently publicly listed companies inorder to safeguard themselves from the threat of terror attacks, translating into collapse of economies.

Misadventures of Language!

Language is a very powerful tool, but a tool is as productive as the tool user is. Following is a fictional news briefing, attempting to show the misadventures of language.

Delhi-The city of car pools.
A report by Paparazzi Mehta
for Breaking news every second.

Delhi presents itself to the world as a model city. It has embraced the much touted culture of car pool like no other city in the world has. Undoubtedly, there could not have been a better host for 2010 Commonwealth Games than the rapidly adaptive Delhi.

When we congratulated, Besharam Singh of MCD for providing the city with its very own car pools, he took out time to explain us the careful planning and implementation that he attributes to the success of the project. He tells us, "It was difficult to be able to make roads that burst open by the slightest of rainfalls. Potholes were carefully planned to avoid clusters and outliers. Earlier, it required heavy motor vehicle to rupture the roads, but with Tata Motor's small car Nano ready to hit the roads, we have accordingly altered the holding material used for road construction to allow for a fair playing field for Nano".

But as with everything else, car pools have brought with them their own controversy. The two civic authorities of Delhi NDMC and MCD are ready with their sling shots pointed at each other. NDMC alleges that MCD is landmarking the city with underpasses, which NDMC claims is a ploy to steal water off their- designed to harvest rain water- roads. Ridiculing the allegations, MCD cries foul at the way flyovers are planned in the city, causing rain water to chute down to adjoining roads falling under NDMC jurisdiction. While this mud slinging continues we present our readers with the following images of state of the art car pools Delhi has equipped itself with.

Amongst all the celebrations one mystery still remains. The car pools have not put the promised tap on the rising fuel consumption of the city. We met Mr Bhatija Yadav and Mr Bhanja Kumar, the two officials from the ministry of urban planning who visited Europe for a study on car pools, to understand their view on the mystery of still rising fuel consumption. Following is what Mr Bhatija Yadav had to say, "Arra budbhak, humra trip tow uyi kya kehte hai aap log- Gilobal heating- ne barbaad kar diya, sasur ka naati barsaat hi nahi hua pura mahina. Par bhai gilobal heating ke karan hum junta ka paisa barbaad nahi hone diye, pura shehar mein ghumke dekhein rahein car pulwa ka vyavastha, lekin sasura gaadi bahut kam dikhat hai wahan sadak par. Garibi bahut rahi shayad, ek gaadi mein paanch paanch log thuns ke bharein rahein, humra dilli mein dekho, humri sarkaar ka tow election agenda hai ghar mein jitne aadmi utni hi gaadi bhi pohchawenge." So, while Govt. prepares itself for a response to ill planned tour of Mr Yadav and Mr Kumar, it has already formed a committee headed by SuckMoney Seth, director for urban planning, to decode rising fuel consumption.

Leaving you with pictures from the host of 2010 Commonwealth Games.

Redemption!

Recently I read a book, "The Kite Runner", by Khaled Hosseini. With each page I turned, I could not resist but marvel the sheer articulation and story telling Hosseini is equipped with. The story is about a young Afghan boy Amir and his servant friend Hassan. The story entails how a random event on a random day defined the rest of the days of Amir and Hassan's life. It is a story of redemption, redeeming oneself of his doings.

As always, while pondering over beer (okay, Satan I confess, it wasn't beer, it was coffee) it struck me how the single event in my life defined the rest of my life. It was summer of 1998, I got myself a letter from University of Delhi, telling I have been selected for BIT (well, it did not say BIT at that time, but "BIT/BIS ke kitne saal, char saal char saal" is another story; for simplicity, it was BIT).

The kismet had it, Dilbert was to become my favorite engineer. I was to attend sessions about back care, and have nerds for friends; friends who think the answer to the question, ideal match is "Fedrer/Nadal 2008 Wimbledon final"; friends who debate how happy hours at the pub should be a function of Fibonacci numbers Beer(n) = Beer(_n−1) + Beer(_n−2) rather than a simple one plus one function Beer(_n)=2_n . On second thoughts, I also think Beer(_n)=2_n is too boring to be a function, if not Fibonacci it should be something like:

Beer(n,f,t)=2n+f+t
where n is number of beers ordered, f is the frequency, i.e. the number of times
one visits the pub in a month and t is how well you tipped the waiter on your last visit.

Summer of 1998 decided that staying in touch means staying in each others friend's list on orkut; it decided that my idea of fun would be to figure out linear time algorithms to accomplish the task at hand; it decided that my favorite book would be "The C programming language" by Booker price winning duo Kerningham and Ritchie (C'mon they chose Kiran Desai over KnR for the award?). That summer decided that I will ask a girl out on mail/chat , phew! am I not glad, I realize there is a better way to ask her out. Okay! she dumped me.... well not exactly dumped, its not dumping unless you first get along, right? :)

But as in the, "Kite runner", Hosseini says, "there is a way to be good again". Redemption is the key. A Chole Bhature ka thela? a knick-knack shop? an MBA degree? Hmmm... although Chole Bhature sounds promising, it might not work, unless kulfi-faluda is on plan too...

Tough choices I have presented myself with, but life ain't easy, is it?

P.S.
1. The Kite Runner is an awesome book.
2. I must find a better way to ask girls out.
3. Venture Capitalists for project Chole Bhature invited.

You asked for it!

(A Short Story)

Gulping down his last drink, Vikram got up and pulled on his jacket. The party was in full swing but he had to rush. He excused himself from the mad inebriated crowd, dancing to the tunes of some random retro rock in the smoke filled hall.

As he stepped out of the cozy atmosphere of the pub, a gush of cold wind hit his body. He zipped his jacket up, and thanked himself for the warm whiskey he chose that night over his usual pitcher of beer. Looking at his watch, he accelerated his pace. The last train home was only 15 minutes away, missing that would mean a long ride home in an auto braving the chill of the night and a long bill too.

He kept walking ignoring the usual night crowd of drunkards, beggars, druggies and people finding customers for what they had to offer, and an occasional commuter rushing back home. Spotting an image from the side of his eye, he faltered for a moment, but again choosing to ignore he kept walking.

Walking some 20 meters, Vikram stopped, looked at his watch, he still had 12 minutes and the station was only 5 minutes away. He turned back, with a look of apprehension on his face, and started walking back to the middle aged man clumsily clad in an ill fitted tweed jacket, buttoned up to his neck. The man looked peculiar, not just because of his attire but there was something strange about his gait as well; he appeared as if playing the game Vikram used to play as a kid with his friends on the long corridors of the arcade- the game of stamp the black squares- the floor of the arcade is decorated with alternate tiles of black and white, the game involved not placing one's feet on the white tile, for a kid with small legs it meant jumping across the tiles.

As Vikram cautiously walked close to the man, he realized the man was blind. But what amazed Vikram was the ease with which the man was walking and how well he was negotiating the lowered roads in between the circular arcade. I am sorry I did not realize you are blind, said Vikram, his voice sounding a little different than the usual- maybe the whiskey shots bruised his throat. Oh you mean, I haven't yet fallen, said the man and laughed out heartily, wondering that the voice sounds familiar. Where have I heard this voice before, wondered the blind man. Not able to recall, he shrugs it off and says, "actually I treat walking as a memory game, remembering the number of steps for each of the corridors and number of steps of the staircases is all it takes for a blind man to hide his blindness".

Vikram was surprised how easy it was for the man to deal with his dark world. Although Vikram knew that the man was headed for the last train, he nevertheless confirmed this with the man. As they both walked towards the station, in an effort to match the blind man's pace, Vikram joined him in the game of stamp the black squares.

They were just in time for the last train. As they boarded the train, the blind man took a swift left and sat himself comfortably- with the ease of a man bearing eyes. Vikram just followed him and sat himself next to the blind man, still awed.

Vikram pulled the windows down to keep the night chill out. As the train started to pull out of the station, Vikram quickly scanned the compartment- only five men, no new faces. Being a regular commuter he knew that 4 stations hence and if no other passenger boards, the compartment will have only two occupants- him and the blind man. Still observing the surroundings he pulled a pill from his pocket and shoved it in his mouth.

At the next station, a couple of men got down and a new passenger boarded and occupied the seat opposite Vikram's. Vikram's eyes gleamed upon noticing him. Vikram had noticed the man on other occasions as well, he was a cigarette peddler in the nearby market. People on the train know him by the name of Tipsy, for he is always under the influence of alcohol. Tipsy, as soon as he sat down, pulled a bottle of some cheap rum from his sack and took one long slug. After gratifying himself, he extended his hand forward and asked if Vikram or the blind man would like a drink. Vikram, almost instantly responded for both himself and his blind co-passenger that they don't drink rum. The blind man was surprised when Vikram answered for him. Vikram understood the quizzed expressions on the blind man's face. While Tipsy continued with his half finished bottle of rum, Vikram started telling the blind man what happened to him five months ago.

Vikram began saying, his voice still hoarse- "It was about five months back, I was on the last train home when a well dressed man after be-friending me offered me a drink. Next thing I remember is waking up in a park near Dwarka, with my stomach stitched up. I looked at my watch and noticed I have been unconscious for two days. I rushed to my doctor only to discover that one of my kidney has been removed"

Listening to what Vikram just told him, the blind man said I must say you are lucky. He said, "I was not always blind, I wish he had taken out my kidney", and started crying. Vikram also started sobbing upon hearing this and to sooth himself pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his jacket and started drinking from it. The blind man smelled the whiskey in the air and extended his hand to ask for it. As Vikram handed him the bottle, he quickly sent a few messages from his mobile. The taste of whiskey brought with it the memories of the night the blind man lost his eyes, he turned pale with fear.

The train pulled over and the compartment was left with just two inhabitants. Vikram smiled at himself, the pill was a good antidote. Messages he had sent and received had confirmed him company at the next station.

A couple of days later, the blind man was found in a park with a note in his pocket saying, "You asked for your kidney to be removed".

Fair Deal for the Fair Sex!

I was going through a brief history of International Women's Day (IWD)

"IWD was marked for the first time on 19 March 1911 in Austria, Denmark, Germany and Switzerland, where more than one million women and men attended rallies. In addition to the right to vote and to hold public office, they demanded the right to work, to vocational training and to an end to discrimination on the job."

It comes to me as a shame that almost after a century, as we observe this day, we have radically different demands. We demand the right to live. Is this why we call India the land of diversity because the land of Indra Nooyi is also the land of more than one million annual gendercides? Or is it because the land of Sania Mirza is also the land of more than 6000 annual dowry deaths?

Alright, we are all educated and aware citizens so I will not try to compile a bunch of facts that we all are already aware of. But, if ignorance is a bliss, awareness is surely an anguish. Anguish it is indeed, for educated people like us contribute a good deal to these frighteningly high numbers (not that the sparse occurrences of such acts would make them any less hideous).

Going back to history of IWD, as days passed by and as Archies and Hallmark spotted a business case :) , IWD also shaped itself into a day to Celebrate the Women in our lives. Today, as we celebrate the day lets also pledge that the fair sex gets the fair deal!.

So here is to the women in our lives. May we be worthy of them.

Oh the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are — chaff and grain together — certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with the breath of kindness blow the rest away. -George Eliot

Enlightenment on the couch!

I lead very busy weekends. Sleeping, lying in the bed doing nothing, listening to music, reading books out of an endless collection my bro and sis have amassed, making myself coffee, surfing the web- well, these are just a few of the activities that consume most of my weekends. Some say I am lazy, but what do people know, lazy is a lifestyle if you ask me. It ain't easy being lazy when you have each member of the family look at you with contempt when they find you in the exact same posture as you were two hours ago. I mean c'mon how many of you can lay down on the couch with laptop placed on your tummy..umm paunch, earphones running from the laptop to your ears, while one of your legs dangles down from the couch and the other leg fixed against the back rest of the couch; and if any of you is trying to push yourself in believing that you can do this feat, don't forget you also have to rock your head to the music and you need to be in the exact same posture for two hours; to double the trouble, you also need to be alert when someone passes you by, to be ready with a pleading face asking for coffee.

Despite all the hardships of being a busy lazy, I make sure that I steal some time for introspection, time when I am just being with myself. During one of these sessions, the light dawned on me.

It all started when I heard a sound playing on a friend's phone, it was a sound of a baby laughing, it was a laugh as carefree as can be, the laugh was full of life. I got the sound file transferred to my phone. In love with it, as I was, I put it as my alarm tone. That was about two months back.

Now, when I hear the tone, my mind starts screaming at the top of its voice, "Shut up you idiot, you li'l lousy brat". It feels as if the baby is laughing at me for he is able to steal the pleasure out of my life, by waking me up everyday -when I so much want to sleep. I hate the tone now.

The alarm woke me up to the fact, that there is no such thing as unconditional love.

I love my job, if it poses me new challenges everyday; I hate it, if its monotonous.
I love stock markets, if I make money; I hate 'em, if I loose money.
I love driving, if there are no traffic jams; I hate it, when there are traffic jams.

I love it when me bro/sis buy me gifts-Using the opportunity to pass the message across

I love it when my friends buy me drinks; I hate it when I have to buy them drinks.
I love that baby-laugh tone, if its not my alarm tone; I hate it if it is.

Aha!, it seems , as with love, hate is also conditional. One just needs to figure out what are the favorable conditions to be in love with the world he/she is in. Now I am beginning to sound like Shiv Khera, he he, so I will just chuck it here.

I now have a shrieking mono tone as my alarm signal, and I am loving to hate it.

Alright guys, buzz off if you are still reading, and do something meaningful, while I wait for someone to come and hand me over this cake lying on the table about 2 feets away from me.

Life O Life, you are full of hardships, you gave me the cake but did not send me the angel to feed it to me. OK, you gave me the limbs necessary to feed myself, but I am busy relaxing.
.