Colours of hate

All I can see are colours
Whirling and flying all around
Raging all red and blinding
The sounds of battle slowly blank out

For here a moment ago
There were the glorious knights
All resplendent in gleaming armour
Their steeds snorting fire and flame

Steady as a mountain we rode
Driven by a relentless hate
Heads held high, mouthing indignities
Afraid not us, we rode for the end

My brother leading us begins to laugh
A moment later he is mangled splinters
Right then cold fear consumes me
But the hoard behind me would not stop
The race to the sword has only begun

Wave after wave keep up the charge
Only to crash uncomprehendingly against the rock
My proud, brave and foolish peers
Die for a cause not their own
And as I lie cowering in agony
I know I shall pass forgotten
I am a manager, a nameless tool

New blog

I decided to bore everyone with random eco stuff and inflict my random ideas on unsuspecting folks. Please access my economic blog at economicallyours.blogspot.com Couldn't really fit it here :) In my blog, I shall keep writing about global markets, the financial world and primarily about the Indian economy. Some stuff about Europe, Japan and the US as well. Monetary policy will be a key focus of the blog. Very little space would be given to fiscal policy or infrastructure stuff. I don't really understand the last two. Happy reading...

Ramblings of a new employee

I have entered office. My first real job, not the 3 miniscule internships I did so far. Change is always unsettling even if its’ pleasant. And I hate meeting new people and parroting the customary hellos. My mind’s somersaulting around and I do my best to put up a plastic wooden smile that says, “Kill me, I am dumb.” Am I smiling enough?” “Do I look over-eager when I try to listen closely?” Am I being judged everytime I speak?” I guess if I can concentrate so many conflicts in my tiny grey cells, (to borrow from a popular series) my emotional range could be wider than that of a tea-spoon. Small comfort that.

Student life’s never coming back. At least the one I am used to. Being instructed in classrooms where you can snooze away and then amuse yourself after class in more ways than one. This is serious stuff or at least it seems to be. What’s different? I don’t have conventional exams anymore. But I will have a boss breathing over my neck evaluating every aspect of my work.

Which is scarier? Take your pick. If that’s not scary enough for you, here’s more. Responsibility is challenging. If I make mistakes, people lose money (real money unlike the trading games I have played so far). I know the above doesn’t sound as dramatic as “If I make mistakes, people die.” But if people lose money because of me, guess who could land the pink slip. Ah well I am a mountain-mole-hiller. Always was J

Tripping across

Here I am sitting all apparently busy in my I-Sec cubicle with my boss right behind my back penning down my first blog after I joined the grand ol world of working people :P. Oh yes my MD is also hovering around, contemplative coz there’s too much happening around. At least that’s what my limited knowledge can make out. So while I am supposed to be pondering over the RBI and Euro’s inflation, I am sneaking in a post about my famous road trip. As usual I am famously late after making grandiose announcements about my chronicling skills all through the trip.

The genesis of the trip lay in L 2nd when 3 slisha high gentlemen brain-stormed over Glen-fidditches to do something out of the way after IIMB. Amidst all placement woes, a tentative plan emerged. Borrow Dada’s famous Esteem (may Her Holiness always rest in peace) and drive down from Pune to Cal across the breadth of the country and brave the summer heat. Brave thoughts instead I must say. Google maps was summoned and in true Manager style an excel sheet materialized out of thin air. In my comfortably happy state, my imagination could already conjure up images of plate of hot steaming dhaba food, interesting people along the road, roads leading past the sea, green fields, mountains and dry arid country mile after mile after mile…

I must confess when I woke up all sobered up in the morning the plan seemed like a dream, unlikely to work out. It would be hot (and I mean real hot). Dada’s Esteem seemed a very unlikely candidate to aid a trip of this magnitude. In its’ current state it couldn’t chug along a mere 10 km without another ailment presenting itself and here we were talking thousands not even hundreds of km.

To be continued amidst house-hunting and hiding from ze bosses...