Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The koward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!"
                     oscar wilde , the ballad of reading gaol







When was the last that I thought of you...I know not...but am I the one who goes alone on this path...and should I but care only a little for the souls that follow or those as march ahead?

Mode C is a way of life, perhaps my way of life: C for Cool, C for Cold, C for Chaos, C for Calvin. Ultimately, all of it boils down to the way you look at things. Are they not how they are but just how they appear?? No...and yes...Almost all the seriously critical fundamental concepts of life...aren't they just the bogies under Calvin's bed that he is afraid of? Miss Wormwood, Susie, Mom and Dad, and of course above all, Hobbes...aren't they all merely the means that he uses to attack these bogies?

Reflecting on 'living the Calvin way', I have started to believe that life and our reaction to it can only be explained by a number of Calvin and Hobbes strips combined together. The philosophy, as I like to call it, is to know that you are not alone. It is not just my perspective alone that is going to help me fight my bogies. I will be able to inch towards the Calvin way only when I perceive the other perspectives on my way.



   
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My Past
Loyola High School Patna
Delhi Public School RK Puram
Institute of Technology BHU
Infosys Technologies Ltd
IIM Kozhikode

My Present
Kotak Mahindra Bank Ltd.

My Future
My Life


Project Nanhi Kali for the girl child


Movie Reviews at Mode C

Kaminey
Gulaal
DevD
Guru
Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna
Omkara
Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire
Batman Begins
Viruddh
Anniyan
Dus
Sarkar
War of the Worlds
Mr. & Mrs. Smith
Bunty aur Babli
Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith
Kaal
Shabd
Raincoat
Swades
Musafir
Naach
Veer Zaara
Phir Milenge
Kyun! Ho Gaya Na
Mujhse Shaadi Karogi
Spider Man 2
Lakshya
Yuva
Main Hoon Na


Book Reviews at Mode C

Stay Hungry Stay Foolish
The Inscrutable Americans
Harry Potter - Half-Blood Prince
The Monk who sold his Ferrari
Angels and Demons
Life of Pi
The Da Vinci Code
The Tristan Betrayal


IIM Kozhikode Bloggers

Abhinav (Class of '05)
Aditya (Class of '06)
Alok (Class of '05)
Alok (Class of '09)
Ananya (Class of '08)
Andromeda (Class of '08)
Amit G (Class of '07)
Beena (Class of '08)
Chirantan (Class of '08)
DAR (Class of '07)
Deepak (Class of '05)
Dhananjay (Class of '05)
Divya (Class of '05)
Divyabhanu (Class of '07)
Firdaus (Class of '07)
Harsh (Class of '08)
Hemant (Class of '05)
Hitesh (Class of '08)
IIMK Photo Blog
Jayesh (Class of '08)
Kanav (Class of '06)
Karan (Class of '05)
Narayanan (Class of '07)
Manandeep (Class of '08)
Meren (Class of '06)
Nilanjan (Class of '06)
Paromita (Class of '07)
Pragna (Class of '03)
Pranay (Class of '06)
Prashant D (Class of '05)
Prashant JK (Class of '06)
Pratik (Class of '07)
Priya (Class of '06)
Rahul (Class of '08)
Ramesh (Class of '06)
Ridhi (Class of '07)
Ronald (Class of '05)
Saurabh (Class of '08)
Sheeba (Class of '07)
Shrikanth (Class of '08)
Sriram (Class of '07)
Suma (Class of '07)
Sumit (Class of '06)
Surabhi (Class of '06)
Surya (Class of '08)
Tity (Class of '05)
Vivek (Class of '09)
Yash (Class of '06)


Other B-school Bloggers


Chandoo (IIM Indore, Class of '06)
Nishith (IIM Lucknow, Class of '06)
Ravi (IIM Ahmedabad, Class of '06)
Shashank (IIM Calcutta, Class of '05)
Sidin (IIM Ahmedabad, Class of '05)


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Sankar


Interesting Reads


A walk in the clouds
Bollywood Blog
Global Trends Collaborative
Sepia Mutiny
The Movie Blog
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All pictures and names concerning Calvin and Hobbes are copyright Bill Watterson


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Wednesday, June 22, 2005
From tags to...

The game of tagging people on their blog spaces has been on for quite some time and I must say that the ingenuity of the person who started it for the very first time needs to be appreciated. The very methodical nature by which he/she chose the topics for these chain blog posts, viz., books, movies, and music, is something in its own class. Almost no body would mind writing about his/her favorite books, movies or music and anyway, that is what most of us who write blogs do.

What beats me, however, is the reason why this person started the chain blog thing. In case of a chain email, I can understand the commercial motives in probably trying to earn some money through scrupulous (as in advertising) or unscrupulous (as in stealing confidential information through viruses, et al) means. But, how different bloggers mentioning their favorite books, movies, or music can benefit anyone is beyond my comprehension. The only thing that I can think of right now is that it may live up to the ego of the starter and I guess that is reason enough, or is it?

The weather outside my room being heavenly, I am currently very highly motivated for another round of the inviting pillow and mattress routine (just got up an hour ago). As such, I don't really want to get too much into the psyche of the original tagger. Instead, I will just do my job and since I do not basically enjoy getting my neck on the line, I won't specifically tag anyone. However, any of the people whose blog links exist on the left panel of this page are welcome to carry the chain ahead if they wish. :-)

Number of books I own:

As Karan, the person who tagged me said, are you serious? There are too many to have a count of. The last count I did was when I left high school and took back my books (and comics) from the neighborhood library I was a partner in. They returned me some 350 comic books, nearly 35-40 novels (of the likes of Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, etc) and about 20 odd classics (which belonged to my uncle at the time). Over the years, there have been many additions to this collection and I have absolutely no idea where it stands right now.

Presently reading:

[Reading again]
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

[Reading for the first time]
Dilbert and the way of the weasel


In the pipeline:

[In my possession]
Atlas Shrugged
Fountainhead

[To buy/beg/borrow/steal and read]
Harry Potter and the half-blood prince
The Monk who sold his Ferrari
Five point Someone


Recently read:

The Da Vinci Code
Angels and Demons
Digital Fortress
Deception Point
(Yes, I was on a Dan Brown spree!)


Some of my favorites:

Gone with the wind
The immensely intricately etched characters of Scarlett and Rhett were the irresistible features of this epic saga that spanned across the American civil war. It appealed to me primarily because of the emotional strength of the female characters which is what I also appreciate in real life (all girls reading this post and swooning over its writer please note :-))

Yes Minister (and Yes Prime Minister)
Comedy at its subtle and satirical best! The television soap was good but the way readers of the book are exposed to the diaries and letters of the charcters in this political comedy is something that really completes the picture. There could hardly be any better way to portray the politics of a country as much in discussion as the UK but more than that, the treatment of the subject is exquisite...nothing banal about it at all...typical bureaucratic class at its best.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
The play of fantasy and at the same time, some back-to-the-roots fight between good and evil appealed ever so much to the readers of this book. More than anything else, the book made an impression on me not because of what it presented but because of what it promised to present in near future. This has now become a hallmark of JKR's Harry Potter series: each book reveals some things and promises to reveal so much more the next time around.

Lord of the Rings
Yes, I am rather given to the fantasy bug and I really like the magical creatures and the stories of good versus evil where the good finally defeats the evil and all is well but that is how I am! The darkness of the villains in this epic, though not in the same league as you-know-who, was enough to justify the supernatural blessings that were showered upon the ring bearer and his troupe. I really digged the elves and the kings and dwarves and all the others!

Tale of two cities
One of the first classics that I ever read, it actually exposed me to the dark side of man and how even fantastic motives like liberty can turn man to monster and how vengeance can take ugly shapes. This book reduced the naivette with which I used to view the world and given the early period in which I read it, it was also the first book to introduce the ways of the west to me and was a sort of first entry for me into the European way of life and what an entry it was!


Posted at 12:05 pm by Nitai

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Tuesday, June 21, 2005
The travails of travelling

As I sit in my room in the G hostel (yes, I am back to G after wishing a heartfelt farewell to it just a few months ago), overlooking the rain and feel strange for the umpteenth time about the difference in weather between this place and back home (compared to the heat wave there, this place is cold, what with the incessant rains for the past so many days), I can still hear my stomach growl. And enough reasons it has to growl, too. The long journey from home to Kozhikode is just that...long and without anyone to accompany you, it is immensely boring and frigtening, too.

The very first thing that hit me as I entered into the compartment of the superfast train to Mumbai was the bad smell coming out of the pantry car which was right next to my coach. Somehow, I knew right then that the poor stomach is going to get a rough treatment and given the heat wave that was lashing against North and Central India with all its fury at the time, there couldn't have been a worse time for such a thing to happen. As expected, the dysentry set in as soon as the train crossed the borders of Uttar Pradesh and with the last of water bottles over, I struggled to the pantry car only to find it locked.

With no water, dysentry having set in and diarrhoea to follow, and most importantly, no stoppage for the next seven-eight hours (this one was a long distance superfast train, remember!), I had a terrible time and could just manage to somehow stay alive till the next day when water came and with it came the comparatively milder climate of Maharashtra (with the Rain Gods having blessed the state a little earlier). As I reached Mumbai in the evening and tugged my heavy luggage along to the local station to get on to Panvel from where I had to catch my next train, I was feeling better, but just a little.

The next day, however, proved to be my saviour as the wonders of the Konkan railway route once again put me in the poetic and romantic and nostalgic mode. I forgot about my stomach pains for quite some time...lost in the beauty and the memories. The frequent stoppages helped, too, as I could get down and stretch my limbs every now and then and the fresh air that went inside me during each of these stretches worked wonders that no medicine could have.

God's own campus is living up to its nomenclature and I can just imagine the amazement with which the new batch would make their first entry into the campus. Last night, we had an introduction session with whatever little of the new batch that is already on campus (people in for the remedial course or the early arrivals). There are some people who are good, some who are very good and of course, the people who appear to be rotten apples as of now. But then, prejudice is bad for health and I will reserve my opinions till I see more of these people and more of the rest of the batch.


Posted at 01:43 pm by Nitai

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Thursday, June 16, 2005
Of handwork and french cuts

Although this is a back-dated post, I still wanted to write about what happened to me a few days ago in my sleepy little village (particularly sleepy given the heat wave which makes practically anything else too difficult). As the readers of this blog may be aware, I hail from a small village called Pandeypatti in the district of Buxar in Bihar. This village, as the name suggests, is the fiefdom of a particular caste (of the many that rule the Bihar landscape) and much of what happens here  is guided by the whims and fancies of the village superiors...or it used to be guided by the above. Recently, there has been a marked change in the way the proceedings are carried out and even I have been able to notice it over my last few small visits.

The Buxar town that is flanked by villages like Pandeypatti (that form the Buxar district) is an interesting study, too. With four cinema halls, one big market (big by the rural standards, that is), two mandis (make-shift markets that meet twice or thrice a week and act as a meeting point for sellers and buyers across the district), and one shady Government hospital, the place has got little to boast of apart from the historic battlefield where the famous Battle of Buxar was fought (and which has now been converted into the political playground).

Enough of background now! Let's cut down to what exactly prompted me to write all this. Actually, it was a combination of two incidents that happened one after the other, one in Buxar town and the other in my own village. Taking them in the chronological order, the first of these incidents happened when I was on a visit to the Doctor of Homeopathy who has impressed my mother and sister by his smart talk and some lucky medicine selection that seems to have worked for their repective ailments. My ailment, as per my much-impressed and much-concerned mother and sister, is my thinning mane which needs something to be done about it if there is any chance to marry me off (ok, the marriage part was my addition of the spice, but you get the point, don't you?).

So as I was explaining the encumberances of desired matrimony to this doctor, he suddenly pops up a question and I am taken aback a little, considering the passion with which I was tring to communicate all the worries of my mother and sister and the reciprocal passion with which the doctor put the question to me.

Doctor: Night fall hota hai? (Do you experience night fall?)
Me: Huh?
Doctor: Night fall (with the fall spelt as phaaaal, as if to make me understand)
Me: umm nahi, normally to nahi, kyun? (Well, no...not normally. Why?)
Doctor: Hast kriya (literally translated, Hand Work)?
Me: kya (What)???
Doctor: Hast Kriya karte hain? (Do you indulge in hand work?)
Me: Hast Kriya??? (Hand work...still trying to relate to the terminology)
Doctor: Dekhiye, humse sach bataane me koi problem nahi hai, aakhir hum aapke doctor hain (Listen, there is no problem in telling me the truth...after all, I am your doctor)
Me: Accha, wo! haan karta hoon regularly (Oh that! yeah I do that regularly...suddenly realizing that he is referring to masturbation)

Doctor raises his eyebrows at regularly and looks at me.
I change the word to normally and am eagerly waiting for him to ask me the frequency but unfortunately, the question never comes.

The next incident happened when I was coming back to my village after the emotional meeting (at least for the doctor...he did not speak much in the same tone after hearing regularly, despite my subsequent reversion to normally) with the doctor. As I was passing the last of the nukkads (the corner shops that sell tea, cakes, eggs and such), I overheard the conversation taking place between some four or five young boys (most of them in their late teens) sipping their last cup of tea before going back to their household chores of the evening.

Boy 1: kaa ho, tu gaeel rahla na saloonwa me? (so, you had gone to the saloon, hadn't you?)
Boy 2: haan, gaeel rehni par okra paas na rahe kauno design (yeah, I had but he did not have any design)
Boy 3: Frencho cut na rahal ha? (he didn't even have the french cut?)
Boy 4: are na rahela ekni ke sang ei sab, okra khaatir jaaye ke padi Patna (oh, these people don't have these things, for that you will have to go to Patna)
Boy 2: haan, aur ou phatal boot cut bhi na rahela yaar kapadwa ke dukaan me (yes, pal and even the torn boot cut is not there in the clothes' shop)
Boy 1: aajkal ihe sab achcha laagela lekin ei Buxarwa me saala kauno samjhewaala naikhe (nowadays, only these things look good but in this bloody Buxar, no one understands)

So, no one understands, and as the school drop outs and Lalu's baal charwahas (the sons of cow-grazers for whom Lalu had so famously opened the special schools all across Bihar) discuss boot cut jeans and french cut beards, the doctors in the city are still speaking of masturbation in hushed tones. Probably it makes sense, too and is not that much of a contrast for I wonder what the reply of these french cut and boot cut boys would have been, when asked about the frequency of their hast kriyas...all I can say is carry on, doctor! :-)


Posted at 12:13 pm by Nitai

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Friday, June 10, 2005
Oh boy! The city of...

The sunmmer training process is over and I am waiting for the mail from my project manager approving my report so that I can send the same to the HR and complete the formalities that still remain between me and my goodbyes. Since this is going to be my last post for quite some time (perhaps till I reach IIMK on the 19th of this month), I thought that I might as well jot down some things that struck me the most during the past two months spent in Sonar Bangal (not the seven star ITC hotel with a slightly different spelling...am referring to Kolkata). So here go a few observations about the city of joy:

Kolkata has a very high beauty quotient. Beauty Quotient, to me, is the natural beauty of the female population (can be accordingly modified by the fairer sex, if they wish so) divided by the forced beauty that is attempted at through tight-fitting clothes, layers of make-up and of course, some strong dieting and exercise to try and maintain that perfect 10. Compared to Bangalore (which has a low quotient because of the high denominator) and Mumbai (where the quotient is a little better but not as well because of the denominator and the numerator being high at the same time) and other places that I have had the opportunity to...ahem...study, Kolkata scores probably the highest. The natural beauty of most of the girls and women of Kolkata is supplemented well by the sense (of dressing, carrying themselves, etc) of the not-so-endowed ones to get the quotient quite high.

Kolkata is liberal. It is the only place I have seen (and I admit I haven't seen all) where the ladies sit by the side of the auto driver right in the front. There is no difference between a guy and a girl when it comes to filling an auto (though the buses still have the "ladies" seats), which I believe, is an indication and a fallout of the matriarchical Bengali society that we have all heard of.

Kolkata is not expensive at all. For the typical middle class big-city-dweller, Kolkata is heaven incarnate. Cheap food, cheap lodgings (unless you take up living quarters in the extremely posh or estate scarce areas) and reasonably priced amenities, make Kolkata the cheapest metro to live in.

Kolkata is not cheap either. When I say that Kolkata is one of the cheapest metros to live in, I am not being derogatory. For all its traditional nature and Bengali conservative culture, the city is shaking its chains off and pretty fast at that. The number of nightspots is increasing dime-a-dozen and the number of people (including college goers and the fairer sex) who go out past midnight to return only in the morning hours, is to be seen to be believed. And lest you believe that the middle class is going to have fun here as well, something else is in store for you. The prices are steep (perhaps not as steep as they are in Mumbai but comparable, nevertheless) and as the lifestyle and Page 3 craze gets going, the exclusivity is going to come in big time as an attraction. The prices are bound to follow the exclusive pattern, too.

There are some good cinema halls in Kolkata but not good enough. Be it the INOX or the 89 Cinemas, the multiplex culture is catching up but a little too late. Mumbai is of course right there at the top but even late comers like Bangalore have an edge over Kolkata in this regard. As of now, Kolkata still plays host to cinema halls and multiplexes as a part of a bigger picture of a mall. However, in contrast, at places like Delhi and MUmbai, shopping malls have been built around cinema halls (Priya, PVR...).

Retail is booming in Kolkata. The Pantaloons outlet in Kolkata is their biggest grosser across India. The Pizza Hut at Camac Street, Kolkata is the largest selling Pizza Hut outlet in India. The INOX theatre in Kolkata is again the biggest grosser amongst all INOX theatres in India. The story promises to continue. With Big Bazaar lowering the prices to suit the pockets of the used-to-economy Kolkata inhabitant, there promises to be another surge, putting Kolkata firmly on the map of the retail industry.

Kolkata is going to be the next hot software destination. With places like Salt Lake already filled beyond capacity and new buildings coming up wherever empty space could be seen a few months ago, the scene is picking up. With Wipro having set up one huge facility in Salt Lake and in line to open another at Rajarhat, the upcoming software center of Kolkata and with TCS going full steam ahead with their new building, things can only go up from here. The Kolkata map is expanding like never before to accommodate the new suburbs that have been coming up over the past few months as a part of the software revolution.

Bengalis in Kolkata are turning into one neutral lot. Although the quintessential fights-with-no-blows-and-only-words are there, the Kolkata crowd is fast appreciating the value of silence. The metro culture is creeping in and instead of shouting at the neighbour, the preferred option is to just shut your doors and windows down. with the Marwaari community almost taking the town over from the native Bengalis, the culture is undergoing serious transformation. The helpful and straight-though-immediately-provoked Babu Moshai is disappearing fast but still exists.

Kolkata is hot and HUMID.

The smoke knows no bounds in Kolkata which seems to be the biggest consumer of cigarettes amongst Indian cities.

The PG (paying guest, that is) homes at Kolkata that shut down the doors at 10:30 (inspite of it being an all-guy PG) suck.

The Kolkata metro rocks...even now.

The wooden seats and the general seat layout in Kolkata buses don't.

There are not as many of the North East India people here as are the Biharis and the Oriyas (unexpectedly, for me).

There are some really good hotels in Kolkata (not to mention ITC's 7 star Sonar Bangla).

You can get a cab willing to go anywhere in Kolkata, if you flag it down from Park Street.

The walls and buildings in Park Street remind you of CP in Delhi and VT-Churchgate in Mumbai.

The water in Salt Lake area is to be had with a great deal of caution.

For a non-Bengali, the sugar in the curry is not digestible. Maarwari food outlets in outhouses rock.

There are quite a lot of FM stations in Kolkata and boarding a taxi without an FM radio is sacrilege.

The latest Food Plaza opened at the Howrah railway station serves some quality food and a varied lot at that.

It is difficult to commute from Joka to Dunlop if you are on a time crunch.

The CD renting shop at the BJ market in Salt Lake has an amazing collection.

The classroom at Alliance Francaise has an amazing air conditioner that makes the three hour class possible.

If you want to party hard in Kolkata, you need to have accommodating hosts like Sandipan's folks who can take in a guy at home even at late nights.

The tea and snacks jhups near PwC practices CRM and knows what is to be served to regular customers without their asking.

The libido of Bengali women is not just a fairy tale :-)

Believe it or not, I shall miss Kolkata and remember it fondly ;-)

Believe it, I don't want to come back to Kolkata for any long duration (short visits will be welcome).


Posted at 03:05 pm by Nitai

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Thursday, June 09, 2005
It's June 9, 2005 and I am a score and five

One of the first memories of my birthday celebrations that shall always be a part of my life is looking at my little sister (she was a kiddo then...not even 3...not that I was any older at my 4th birthday) sitting on the window sill all grumpy and teary eyed, with two balloon sticks in one hand and a candy wrapper in another. In fact, I shall always be indebted to whoever took the snap of her sitting there all alone, with her cheeks puffed up on being ignored and her tears having dried up on being given the little consolation she had in the form of the balloons and the candies. I still use the photograph whenever I have to get "kiddo" psyched up. :-)

The cakes and friends and temples and gifts routine carried on for quite some time but most of that is vague and hazy in my mind...till the last of them came about. Incidentally, it was my 13th birthday that was the last one celebrated with all fanfare and gung-ho enthusiasm on part of my parents and guardians. Everyone we knew in the city was called up and invited to the last birthday celebration of a 13-year old (I am not sure but as far as I remember, it was me in one of my crazy want-to-grow-up moods who suggested the birthdays-are-for-kids funda). And what a birthday celebration it was and what amazing gifts!!! It was the birthday when I received my first cricket kit, some "intelligent" board games and all this not for nothing...for it was also the only birthday where added to the usual cake and snacks bit, there was a sumptuous dinner spread for the guests, as well.

And then I was 18. Having already decided to avoid the guests invitation and gifts receiving routine (and unfotunately sticking to the decision), I had my family planning a rather moderate celebration and how moderate it was!!! We went to one of the most expensive and stylish and considered-hep restaurants of the city and reserved a table for nearly twenty (yes, that was the number of relatives whose presence blessed my trasition to legal adulthood). I had a ball that day and still carry so many memories of the party...how Nana and Nani got into the party mood for the first time...how my Mausis and Mami pulled my leg every minute of the first day of my adult life...how I laughed and laughed and laughed!

The mother of all parties, however, was when I turned 21 and when I gave a birthday treat to my friends out of my own hard-earned money, for the very first time. I was in Bangalore then, working as a research assistant under the fellowship program of JNCASR (Jawaharlal Nehru Center for Advanced Scientific Research) and had received the monthly stipend of three thousand bucks for the month of May. About ten of my batchmates from engineering were doing their summer projects in Bangalore at the time and then of course, there was Shabana from JNCASR. I don't know where you are, Shabana but this memory shall always be incomplete without you...without your childish enthusiasm, without your corn cobs...without the great friendship that we had. And before I forget, it was also the time when we had some good fun with another of my good friends. Ashish, with his girl-who-was-born-on-the-same-day connection and the rest of us, with the freshly created mail id inviting him for the girl's birthday treat...that birthday was FUN. In fact, whenever my friends from college wish me on my birthday post that year, they always refer to "that party we had...when's something similar happening again?" Probably never...but who knows!

I went out with my PG room-mates last night and thanks to the extra half hour that the PG aunty graciously allowed us post closing time, we were back after a good (though expensive :-( ) dinner and back to open doors for a change. The cake was there, courtesy Anurag and so were the cards with all those whacky messages. And then it was time...to keep the cell phone in one hand pressed hard to the ears and the knife in another slicing the cake in one sweet motion amidst loud cheers of "Happy Birthday to you". There is another party due tonight with all the summer trainees (thanks to Orkut, my birth date is not something I had to shout from the rooftop for the others at PG or office to know...I know that you were not thinking I had done something like that but still... ;-)). Thnakfully, this party involves a fixed (though by no means small) contribution from me and the rest is going to be pooled in by everybody as the contribution to the summers-at-PwC-Kolkata farewell party.

Since it is my birthday, I will leave the cynicism part for some other day and won't talk about how wishing people on their birthday is fast becoming a social farce and how long-lost friendships seem to come out of thin air as soon as the birthday comes and get lost into oblivion a day later. But didn't I say I will not talk about this? So long then and thanks for all the wishes!


Posted at 01:00 pm by Nitai

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