A stupid Airtel advertisement. Mum v. Dad

Dear Readers,
Yes, it is me again. I rarely get a chance to watch the TV commercials, if at all, only if they are interposed between the news - fortunately none are. Viewing TV (apart from the news) is quite a rarity for me. But, these days, I have been at home and have been surfing channels in a sort of a daze.

I chanced upon a new (perhaps) Airtel ad. Here, the kid is punished and made to sit in a corner. He escapes with a toy phone calls his Dad (at least he thinks he does) and tells his Dad to tick his Mum off for punishing him. Well, he is back on his chair facing the wall. His Mum now relents and tells him he can go and play outside. The kid thinks that Dad had the upper hand and had ticked his Mum off - for what? For discipling him.

What kind of message is Airtel trying to send? That Dad's are superior? I hate this ad. Watch it here.

I think I shall switch over to Hutch (now Vodaphone) and their cute doggie.

When I was sick and lay a-bed

Dear Readers,

Guess, after ages, I am feeling slightly better. My corny sense of humor seems to have returned. So here goes.


With due apologies to Robert Stevensen


When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head;
And my blackberry besides me lay,
Flashing its light, keeping sleep at bay.

And sometimes for an hour or so,
I shut my eyes and sank deeply so;
But, then the mobile phone did trill,
And I woke up with a shrill.

And sometimes the papers flew,
Tax Alerts and what have you;
All up and down in the room,
Or The Economic Times in the breeze did flutter,
The room looked, oh so cluttered.

I was the giant great but not still,
Propped on a pillow, sustained by many pills;
Tossing and turning, with fevered gaze,
Everything seemed just a haze including the odd conference call or two;

But, now as I sit in bed and type,
There is hope that all will be right;
Hopefully sometime soon.

Arrgh, medicine time again.

Photograph: www.treehousecards.co.uk
Best regards,
Lubna

We voted...

Dear Readers,

I vividly remember Voting Days - the day those eligible to vote could troop to their nearest polling booth and cast their vote. Voting day was never a holiday at home. I am referring to the mid-1970s here, when there was no access to information online nor public awareness campaigns nor electronic voting machines.

Mummy always made it a point to know which candidate was standing for elections and whom she and indeed the eligible voters in the family should vote for. In fact, at that point of time, candidates went from door to door. I remember a few of them being questioned not only by my mother but also by my granny.

I began to vote as soon as I was eligible to do so. It was thrilling to queue up for the first time and cast my vote. The venue was St Anns' School, Pali Hill, just down the road from our residence. My first vote was for the late Sunil Dutt, who was a great social worker in our constituency and a great human being.

Thus, today was no exception. Mummy made sure we did not sleep in late, as I am prone to on a holiday. We were all briskly taken to the polling booth. However, at 9 am, there was hardly any one around. We were the only people in the room where we had to cast our vote. I do hope people start coming in soon.

There was a slight mix up in my name, my surname went missing in the list which the election officers had, even as it contained my name followed by my father's name and other details. But as I had enough evidence to produce, all was well.

I just wanted to thank all those who make elections a possibility in our country. The unsung heros - the election officers, the security guards, all of whom make it possible for us to celebrate our democracy. I wonder when these people get to vote? I hope they do. It is the right of every Indian to be able to vote.

As they say, every drop makes an ocean. Yes, every vote counts. So, if you are in Bangalore or any territory which has to vote today and haven't cast your vote yet, please do go. Vote for a united India, which looks forward rather than backwards.

Photograph: WSJ online

Best regards,
Lubna

Of work hours and learning from the business secrets of the Trappists

Dear Readers,

Hoping to take a much needed break and offer myself some respite, I opted for a part time stint for sometime from April. Well, while I started off on the wrong note by falling ill. But, hopefully next week I should be back at work, albeit part time.

We all tend to feel that even a 10 hour plus work day doesn't seem to be enough, as we are dragged in all sorts of direction. At times, when we see our To Do list at the day's end with things still left to do we wonder where the time flew.


Now, as I was sitting up in bed and seriously wondering whether I would be able to manage all my work within half a day and yet take care of all my responsibilities (even as some have been passed on), I came across this series of articles in Forbes' Women - Business secrets of the Trappists (Monks).


Part 1Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

In Part 1 of this series, the author, August Turak points out that:

"All too often our organizations fail to reach their potential because people spend too much time looking over their shoulders. What is so striking about Mepkin is that the monks are never looking over their shoulders. They are passionately committed and totally focused on the task at hand, and they know that their brothers are doing the same. As a result, they are highly efficient and get an enormous amount done in the four hours a day they dedicate to earning their living."

"Yet if we allow ourselves to be impressed by the monks because they manage to accomplish so much despite their single-minded dedication to their mission, we make a common but cardinal error. It is because of their focus on mission that they operate a multimillion-dollar business with a degree of frictionless efficiency that would drive most profit-driven executives to distraction with envy. And if we are willing to learn from the monks, our secular corporations can do the same."

This sure is food for thought. I guess, unless each one in an organisation thinks on similar lines, the frictionless efficiency cannot be achieved, as we are dependent on each other for our work flows. But, perhaps each of us, can help make a difference.

Happy Reading. I now move on to read Part 2...

Best regards,
Lubna

The rain in summer

Dear Readers,

As I lay in bed, tossing and turning, and heard the rain and smelled the wet earth, calm returned. I could not but help think of this poem, by Henry Longfellow:

The sick man from his chamber looks
At the twisted brooks;
He can feel the cool
Breath of each little pool;
His fevered brain
Grows calm again,
And he breathes a blessing on the rain.

It is weird, sometimes a para or two of a poem that you learnt way back in school sticks to your mind and not the entire poem. While sick, the rain does have a calming effect on me. Else, it generally reminds me of the Monsoon chaos in Bombay.

It rained today in Bangalore. It seemed as if the raintrees outside my window sighed in relief. Well, so did I. My fevered brain also seems to be calm again.

While on this subject, do read up this article as well. The photograph is borrowed from this particular website.

Best regards,
Lubna