Wisdom...

There are times
I’ve suffered shipwreck in my journeys:
In perils of robbers;
In perils of false brethren:
In perils of my own design.
Yet, from these perils comes knowledge:
Only from within may we truly shine.

Tupac Shakur

Countdown to 2008

Cant wait for this year to end. Those who know, know why :) 2008 will be a great year, me thinks!!

Really, I mean, SERIOUSLY??

Two accidents in less than 10 days? C'mon now!

Its coming together...

Finally, after weeks of writer block, I am able to get my essays together. It's amazing how hard it can be to put 400-600 words together about what you want to do with your life, or what your achievements are.

2 down, 3 to go.

The Anti Guru

Someone at the coffee shop told me about this guy called UG. A pretty popular philosopher of Indian descent who eventually settled in CH. He came to call himself the Anti-Guru, because he believed that most gurus and ammas were money making shams. My kind of guy. He called his teachings the "open source" of philisophy.

Here's something in this philosophy that I found super interesting. A well defined description of human conciousness.

The human self-consciousness is not a thing, but a movement, one characterized by perpetual malcontent and a "fascist" insistence on its own importance and survival.

True that!

My Target Audience (Someday...)

(Thank you Lynn, for letting me steal this off you fb album.)

My friend Lynn and a couple of other folks are doing some awe-inspiring work in Zambia. More details at the SmarCare wiki. Check it out.

Men(r)sa Vain

Ok. Ok. I'm bored. After my accident last Friday, all I seem to be doing is popping pills of different colours (which I must confess is kinda fun, I can pretent to be a substance abuser at last,) physiotherapy and checking email. Since the year's drawing to an end, work's literally slowed down to a trickle and everyone's begun to send holiday greetings via email that take up the precious little 450MB of mailbox space that I get.

Thea popped in today to drive me to my physio appointment. On the way, we talked about a whole bunch of stuff, but most importantly about IQ scores. She asked me what my IQ score was, and I told her I didnt remember exactly, but I did take a test in highschool and the score was around 150. I also told her that I joined Mensa, but quit soon after, since every one was hell bent on proving how damn smart they were and I just dont like to flaunt.

Well, you have nothing to worry about. People, esp. guys begin to lose about 3-5 points a year after they hit 24-25, she said. You mean I could actually become more stupid, without knowing anything about it, I quipped. She smiled. It was a devious kind of smile, with part malice and part satire mixed in. I wondered if she was jealous of the fact that I could always hold my own in Scrabble, when we played. Maybe she was secretly banking on this aging phenomenon that was partial to men, to beat me some day.

After she brought me back home, I knew what I wanted to do. I would take an IQ test online. So I scoured the web for the most difficult IQ test I could find. Even willing to pay the $20 that I was being scammed to part with. But the things we do for vanity.

30 minutes later, I had completed my test. I got an email with my detailed results. The score was pretty good, apparently in the top 1% of all humans. The report says that I am very good at Math, Spatial Skills, Logic, Memory, Utilization, Intuition and Computational Speed. I was super happy, atleast someone believes in my native talents, even if I have to pay them to get that vote of confidence.

So, the next thing to do was to call Thea. I did.

Hey Thea, guess what?, was my opening line. You took the test, didnt you?, was her reply. Awkward silence followed by guffaws of laughter. I cannot believe this, I've been played by a wannabe shrink, I told her. Hey, it got you to laugh, she said.

Yep. It got me to laugh. Thank you Thea!

What's in a name?

Apparently, your name decides how likely you are to be a wealthy and successful individual. ABC7 carried a story about it, so I decided to check out this recently published research paper. They did 5 studies and realised that people whose names begin with A or B have a chance of getting a higher GPA than people with C or D. And getting into a better law school, choosing a partner whose name begins with A or B, and so on.

Baloney! But then I immediately googled for any studies done for people who's name start with "S" and their likelihood of finding fame, success and a buxom blonde (metaphor, though not particularly averse to the literal either.)

Guess what? People with first names that start with S are sensitive, solitary, sagacious, sensual and often successful. It's sound research, the website claims. Now there's a reason to be happy, me says.

Just Spiel..

I was looking through notes from my first year of employment at my current place of work. A notable speaker, an executive, who was recently fired for developing a "special" bond with his assistant spoke the following words:

When choosing a team or hiring someone in business, the most important criteria is not necessarily just what they can contribute today. A great manager or leader must also consider an individual’s growth potential and may often have to take risks to help that individual grow. You are a good leader if you hire people who are smarter than you, help them discover and develop their key strengths and in doing so put them on a path to success.

At the time I was so excited that I was part of an organization where people took risks and bets on individuals with potential. But through my own experience and those of my peers, I somehow feel that it was nothing more than rah-rah talk to a bunch of precocious youngins.

I've spent three supercharged years, and am quite frankly very burnt out and find myself not challenged in any significant way.

So what is one to do? Quit whining and do something about it, is what I've always told myself.

I really see no other option than quitting and finding a new job. Or going back to get an MBA.

Ideally, I'd like to take a couple of months off from everything, go back to my favorite place on the planet (a small cottage nestled in the Himalayas where my folks took me often when I was a child) and just do the things that I like - read, cook, hike and be around people who havent been corrupted by materialism. Maybe that will help my spirit recover and my mind refocus.

Hope this is more than just spiel...

11/30: A Series of Unfortunate Events

11/30 takes the cake for the worst day in my recent history. Here's a brief snapshot of what went down.

5 am: Wake up on 3 hours of sleep for an interview.

9 am: My mother calls to let me know that my dad is going in for a 3rd round of emergency surgery, in a span of 20 days.

9:30-1:00: First few interviews and lunch with a friend. Things were going well, or so I thought.

1:00: Walk into the room of the hiring manager for another interview. While she's getting settled in, I get a migrane attack. Havent had one in years, and in the meanwhile I am being blasted to come up with a marketing plan for a scuba diving company that is trying to target a niche segment made up of "hydrophobiacs" (not even a real word.) I've got to give it to her though; She senses that something's wrong and walks with me to the water cooler, where I pick up a token drink. It didnt occur to me then, but I should have pulled out some headache pills from the first aid cabinet. Overall, I did not acquit myself well to be able to accurately represent my abilities. (Whatever!)

2:00-2:30: Luckily I get a break to run to my car to see if I am carrying any pain meds. I have Tylenol, so I pop 5-6 of them and go back for my next interview.

2:30: The interviewer (Victor) is an awesome guy. For the next 60 minutes there isnt a silent second between the two of us.

3:30: The interviewer is a no-show. After waiting and leaving several voicemails, the guy sitting in the next room tells me that my interviewer is out to a going away party. Yay!! Only if he would have been courteous enough to provide prior notice.

5:00: On the 5S heading towards the airport, I get into an accident. A tire burst causes me to veer off my lane and get hit by an incoming car. Very shaken, and with shooting back pain, I exchange insurance information with the other driver, call a cab and get on my flight to LA. After being checked out by a doctor offcourse, who tells me to take it easy for the week and get more tests done to ensure that I didnt damage any vertebral discs.

I come back to LA. My back's killing me. Everything seems to be in the dumps (literally.) I call up my mom to see how my Dad's surgery went. Very tired, it doesn't take much for me to fall asleep and bid such a foul day goodbye.