The premise: To create an absolutely random short story in the shortest time possible.
Time start: 1:52 pm
The sweat was trickling down from his forehead, onto his brand new uniform. It was the middle of July and Bangalore was by no means, as hot as to make him sweat so. He decided not to go ahead with it and almost started walking back, but Gopal wanted none of it. He had been drunk with success from his previous conquest two weeks ago. Gopal goaded him on, threatening not to talk to him if he didnt muster up the courage and do what was necessary. He was now on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Gopal could never understand what he was going through. Gopal was the class captain, with extremely desirable athletic abilities. His aquiline physique made it possible for him to win, not only medals, but several aching hearts. He stared down at his stomach. It was not too bad, he thought, but it was not too good either. Obviously, the chocolate blitz in the holidays in Ooty had taken its toll. He was thinking about his mother who never encouraged the habit, and wished he had only had the good sense to listen to her.
Four boys in 4th standard C section had been successful last week. Each boy had taken it upon himself to go up to the girl he most 'liked' in the class and say "I really like you very much, would you like to be my girlfriend?" It was his turn today. If he chickened out, he knew that he would be out of the gang for good and that no shame would be worse than what he would face if he didn't go through with it. His palms had suddenly become sweaty, the tie that he had tied around his neck, suddenly seemed tighter and he felt short of breath. Had Gopal felt the same way, when he went up to Gayatri and uttered the magic words? He was sure that wasnt the case. How he wished he had that confidence. He started walking, taking smaller steps than he would usually take, always looking back to see Gopal and the others goading him on, cheering, whistling.
She was playing kho-kho and as always she managed to look perfect, even playing kho-kho in that dusty playground. The way her hair fell over her bright eyes was magical. Aditi was her name. She was the sports captain for the girl's kho-kho team and had sat next to him in 2nd standard. She was flawless even then. He thought that he would go up to her and say the words when she would take a break from the game, but Gopal's raised eyebrows and angry expression drove him to walk up, closer to her. He was now about 4 feet from her, when his view was blocked and he heard "Aditi, I like you very much, will you be my girlfriend?" from Keshav
Time done: 2:15 pm
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
An affair to remember - A short story
He asked her to go on without him to the 4th floor. He told her that he needed a smoke. She displayed just a hint of disappointment, but the smile from the side of his mouth made sure that she smiled back coquettishly. "I had a great time today", she said, looking very earnest as she said it. "Same here" he said, now smiling end-to-end, but unable to look as comfortable as he was in the morning. He hoped she didnt notice his uneasiness, but there were a sea of people walking into Office building 4, looking busy and occupied in general, noticing one's reactions would be hard in such an environment. Before she walked in, she waved to him and said "See ya", her dainty, perfectly proportionate hands holding his gaze, as he reached for the packet of Wills in his pocket.
He was nervous. He went to the back of the building for a smoke he so much desired and required. "It is nothing, you are just letting it influence you" was the thought that came to his usually rational mind. He lit up the cigarette and refreshed his memory. He tried to recollect the entire series of events. Nikita and he had planned on going out today. Over the last few days, their chemistry was undeniable and it was only a matter of time before one of them approached the other. The past week had been absolute madness in the office with an internal audit taking the whole place by storm. Both of them had spent long nights perched over their laptops, next to each other, the conversation frequently slipping from the quarterly budget to her recent divorce and the way she was coping with it, to his disconnect from his home surroundings. The audit ended on a Thursday, and Nikita, nonchalantly walked up to him and asked him whether he wanted to play truant from the office on Friday, and do something fun. He was immensely flattered, because someone as gorgeous and classy as Nikita wouldnt obviously ask any random man out on a date. He found himself nodding slightly in a desperate attempt to underplay the whole situation and saying yes.
They were scheduled to meet at the mall, located quite a distance away from the office and in the center of the city, to avoid any possible run-ins with co-workers. 11 was the time decided upon. They were planning to get some lunch at this Spanish restaurant that she was dying to go to and then catch the matinee. Both of them had to get back to the office after that, to tie up some loose ends. He was there on the dot at 11. She wasnt. He decided to wait up for her at the large bookstore in the mall. The mall was unusually crowded, even on a weekday. They were having an annual "All-store sale" and the place was filled with college-goers, office-goers and the odd retirement-home goers all looking for "the best brands at low prices". As he was flipping the pages of the latest Jim Collins book, he couldnt help but notice a young man wearing a bag and talking on the phone. The young man wearing the heavy backpack let it it drop near the children's book section and walked briskly out of the store saying "Oh, you are outside? Wait, Ill come and meet you." He then got lost in the management theories of Jim Collins and lingered on for another 20 minutes before Nikita turned up at 11:30. He told her to come into the store and she arrived there, looking beautiful as ever, complete with elegant semi-casual workwear and a very attractive looking bag. She was one to make heads turn, she was. She said "Hi, whats up? What are you doing here", he sheepishly held up the book and they approached the billing counter together. While she was talking about Girish, a painful lecherous senior at the office, he couldnt help but notice that the bag the young man had left near the children's section was still lying there. He thought he should tell her, but decided not to. The billing queue was short and he decided not to let it affect him "Spoilt kids, they are always leaving their things behind", he thought. After that Nikita and he disappeared into the much-touted Spanish restaurant at the mall, where the food was excellent, and the tab being in proportion with the number of oohs and aahs she let out as she was savouring the delicious food there. They then went for the matinee showing of the romantic comedy, "The Proposal", an otherwise forgettable movie, but made memorable because the company he had was excellent. Not only was she fun to talk to, but she was also extremely physical in her overtures. It had been a while since he had been this attracted to a woman like this and she being attracted to him. His mind had completely forgotten the backpack, when he thought he saw something strange. Nikita and he were walking past the bookstore on their way out at around 6:30 in the evening. The children's section of the bookstore was visible to him through the large glass display and he could have sworn that he saw the strap of the backpack from there. She was in a hurry. There was a weekly review meeting in 45 minutes, which she had to attend. She dragged him along to the parking lot, where he picked up his car and both of them left for the office. The backpack never left him feeling comfortable. He could hear the airport announcement playing in his head. "Please report any suspicious activity or suspicious baggage to the airport staff. Security is everyone's concern".
He now stood in outside Building 4 in the back, smoking, thinking about the contents of the bag. He was not sure whether he should report it, after all. It might just have been a college boy forgetting his books in a store. Books, he thought, for a collegian were quite forgettable as well. He also remembered that the mall had a metal detector placed at all entrances and bags were usually checked, but the crowd that day was quite an enormous one, had they checked this backpack? He had thoughts of reporting this incident to the cops, but feared that it might raise a few questions. What was he doing in that mall? with another woman? when his wife was at home? Both Nikita and he had called in sick to the office, and if they discovered that he they were in a mall, enjoying themselves, then it might cause some issues in the office. Not to mention at home. His wife would be crestfallen if she knew that he was in the proverbial "arms of another woman". As he was thinking of all this, his phone rang and his video con with a foreign client was scheduled to start in a few minutes and he was needed on the 7th floor. He went upto the 7th floor, switched off his phone and attended the vid-con. It was 7:30. He was done with the call by 11:30, drove straight home to find his wife sleeping. He washed up and went straight to bed, exhausted.
The next morning was when the expensive bone-china coffee mug crashed loudly to the floor causing it to break into several pieces. His wife came running, shocked, enquiring about what happened. He stood transfixed at the broken coffee mug and its brown contents spilling on to the carpet. She asked him what happened, to which he replied, "Nothing, it just slipped from my hand", entirely ignoring the fact that he was shaking with fear. She said, "Wait, Ill ask Mani to clean it up, my god the carpet is a mess and so are your pyjamas. Go in and put it for wash", irritably. He was looking for an exit strategy to get out of her presence, lest she smell a rat. He immediately walked quickly into his room, holding the coffee stained copy of the The Hindu with the headlines in the frontpage reading "20 dead in mall bomb blast"
He was nervous. He went to the back of the building for a smoke he so much desired and required. "It is nothing, you are just letting it influence you" was the thought that came to his usually rational mind. He lit up the cigarette and refreshed his memory. He tried to recollect the entire series of events. Nikita and he had planned on going out today. Over the last few days, their chemistry was undeniable and it was only a matter of time before one of them approached the other. The past week had been absolute madness in the office with an internal audit taking the whole place by storm. Both of them had spent long nights perched over their laptops, next to each other, the conversation frequently slipping from the quarterly budget to her recent divorce and the way she was coping with it, to his disconnect from his home surroundings. The audit ended on a Thursday, and Nikita, nonchalantly walked up to him and asked him whether he wanted to play truant from the office on Friday, and do something fun. He was immensely flattered, because someone as gorgeous and classy as Nikita wouldnt obviously ask any random man out on a date. He found himself nodding slightly in a desperate attempt to underplay the whole situation and saying yes.
They were scheduled to meet at the mall, located quite a distance away from the office and in the center of the city, to avoid any possible run-ins with co-workers. 11 was the time decided upon. They were planning to get some lunch at this Spanish restaurant that she was dying to go to and then catch the matinee. Both of them had to get back to the office after that, to tie up some loose ends. He was there on the dot at 11. She wasnt. He decided to wait up for her at the large bookstore in the mall. The mall was unusually crowded, even on a weekday. They were having an annual "All-store sale" and the place was filled with college-goers, office-goers and the odd retirement-home goers all looking for "the best brands at low prices". As he was flipping the pages of the latest Jim Collins book, he couldnt help but notice a young man wearing a bag and talking on the phone. The young man wearing the heavy backpack let it it drop near the children's book section and walked briskly out of the store saying "Oh, you are outside? Wait, Ill come and meet you." He then got lost in the management theories of Jim Collins and lingered on for another 20 minutes before Nikita turned up at 11:30. He told her to come into the store and she arrived there, looking beautiful as ever, complete with elegant semi-casual workwear and a very attractive looking bag. She was one to make heads turn, she was. She said "Hi, whats up? What are you doing here", he sheepishly held up the book and they approached the billing counter together. While she was talking about Girish, a painful lecherous senior at the office, he couldnt help but notice that the bag the young man had left near the children's section was still lying there. He thought he should tell her, but decided not to. The billing queue was short and he decided not to let it affect him "Spoilt kids, they are always leaving their things behind", he thought. After that Nikita and he disappeared into the much-touted Spanish restaurant at the mall, where the food was excellent, and the tab being in proportion with the number of oohs and aahs she let out as she was savouring the delicious food there. They then went for the matinee showing of the romantic comedy, "The Proposal", an otherwise forgettable movie, but made memorable because the company he had was excellent. Not only was she fun to talk to, but she was also extremely physical in her overtures. It had been a while since he had been this attracted to a woman like this and she being attracted to him. His mind had completely forgotten the backpack, when he thought he saw something strange. Nikita and he were walking past the bookstore on their way out at around 6:30 in the evening. The children's section of the bookstore was visible to him through the large glass display and he could have sworn that he saw the strap of the backpack from there. She was in a hurry. There was a weekly review meeting in 45 minutes, which she had to attend. She dragged him along to the parking lot, where he picked up his car and both of them left for the office. The backpack never left him feeling comfortable. He could hear the airport announcement playing in his head. "Please report any suspicious activity or suspicious baggage to the airport staff. Security is everyone's concern".
He now stood in outside Building 4 in the back, smoking, thinking about the contents of the bag. He was not sure whether he should report it, after all. It might just have been a college boy forgetting his books in a store. Books, he thought, for a collegian were quite forgettable as well. He also remembered that the mall had a metal detector placed at all entrances and bags were usually checked, but the crowd that day was quite an enormous one, had they checked this backpack? He had thoughts of reporting this incident to the cops, but feared that it might raise a few questions. What was he doing in that mall? with another woman? when his wife was at home? Both Nikita and he had called in sick to the office, and if they discovered that he they were in a mall, enjoying themselves, then it might cause some issues in the office. Not to mention at home. His wife would be crestfallen if she knew that he was in the proverbial "arms of another woman". As he was thinking of all this, his phone rang and his video con with a foreign client was scheduled to start in a few minutes and he was needed on the 7th floor. He went upto the 7th floor, switched off his phone and attended the vid-con. It was 7:30. He was done with the call by 11:30, drove straight home to find his wife sleeping. He washed up and went straight to bed, exhausted.
The next morning was when the expensive bone-china coffee mug crashed loudly to the floor causing it to break into several pieces. His wife came running, shocked, enquiring about what happened. He stood transfixed at the broken coffee mug and its brown contents spilling on to the carpet. She asked him what happened, to which he replied, "Nothing, it just slipped from my hand", entirely ignoring the fact that he was shaking with fear. She said, "Wait, Ill ask Mani to clean it up, my god the carpet is a mess and so are your pyjamas. Go in and put it for wash", irritably. He was looking for an exit strategy to get out of her presence, lest she smell a rat. He immediately walked quickly into his room, holding the coffee stained copy of the The Hindu with the headlines in the frontpage reading "20 dead in mall bomb blast"
Monday, August 10, 2009
Conference call characters
It is that time of the year, where I am constantly flooded with conference calls for various projects/important topics of discussion. As you would probably be aware, that conference calls are called "con-calls" in short. An apt name, as these calls are nothing short of a major con job. Con-calls, in my opinion are the ultimate corporate time-wasting tactic. Yesterday, I was sitting through a rather harrowing con-call involving several parties (whose names I cannot mention, and frankly dont care to) about a project which needed absolute and immediate attention, as its failure would result in major revenue loss for the company in question (cant mention, dont care to). Usually, I am the man who puts his phone on mute as some of the other speakers hammer away at the topic of discussion(refer to the Snoozers down below), at the end of which, on most occasions, no clarity is achieved. I always ensure that I carefully interject a question or a comment somewhere in between my meal and my sleep to ensure that my presence is felt, and my next bonus will be adequately padded for my "insightful" comments. Yesterday's call was quite different. I was the focal point and questions were being directed at me by all members of the "invisible brotherhood". As I rambled away deep into the night, I couldnt help but stereotype some of the members involved in the call. These are some of my "deep observations" on these characters:
1) The Not-So-Moderator: The Not-So-Moderator is the man leading the call, or the proverbial moderator. He/She is a person who is directly responsible for the project being discussed, but ironically having the least amount of knowledge about the very same. This person is usually the loudest and the most boring, and turns the meaning of the word "moderator" on its head. He is usually the man (or woman) with the smallest phallus, which has artificially been inflated with the use of words like "timeline", "closure", "convergence" and the like. You will frequently see this creature deliver a killer punch by saying, "I dont see why this has to take so long. It seems extremely simple", only to find that the activity in question is a huge, long-term task. Management usually rewards such people the most.
2) The One-Quote Inspirer: This is a character who is a man/woman of great dreams of ambition. This person aspires to be the Not-so-moderator, like anything. The One-quote-inspirer utters a statement of absolute positivity like, "dont worry Not-so-moderator, we are all with you on this", for which he/she is lauded no end. This person usually goes to sleep after the comment, because he/she has no more to add, and still felt his/her presence felt, as the voice of positivity in the sea of naysayers.
3) The Non-Committal KillJoy: Although, this person seems like a bore, he/she is a person who is incredibly interesting in an otherwise dull call. This person is usually the executive responsible for seeing the project to completion, failing which he/she would be disembowelled and fed to the pigs, to put it delicately. This person is picked on the most, because of his (it is usually always a man) Frankenstein-like power of speech (but not of conversation) and because he is not able to schmooze with the big boys. The characteristic trademark of this person is to ensure that no timelines for completion are given, ever. Timelines suggested by others are promptly shot down, because of reasons best known to him and some aliens in Jupiter. The reasons are usually on the lines of "approvals not available", "vendor not supporting", "several stakeholders are involved", etc. This person usually doesnt get busy with his spouse, because same non-committal attitude permeates into his personal life. The reasons given by this person are usually hilarious and he usually incurs the wrath of the Not-so-moderator immediately after the call.
5) The Minute Maid: This is the guy (and it is always a guy, as girls never take such lowly jobs) who prepares the minutes of the meeting. He doesnt understand a word, but he manages to just get his keyboard rolling around. His "minutes" are usually vague and more like "hours" or sometimes even "days", "months" or "years", in line with the spirit and outcome of the con-call in progress.
4) The Bad-Ass: The bad-ass is one who rarely opens his/her mouth, but whenever that mouth opens, it showers generously, negative energy and toxic waste on the Non-committal killjoy and sometimes, even the Not-so-moderator. The Bad-Ass is usually a senior (usually from another department) and he/she sees the participants like insignificant insects who will be crushed soon. He/She would retire to bed in a really comfortable apartment with mirrors everywhere, just in case. He/She usually nevers needs to open his/her mouth, the cold, malevolent stare can traverse phone lines and be in every other participant's face, except for...
5) The Snoozers: The snoozers are either top management or people who would quit in the next few months and set up a lucrative management consulting practice, where they would be paid way better for telling corporate clients to "involve more stakeholders in key meetings" and to bring in the concept of "synergy in diversity", a word which most management consultants use. The top management, on the other hand is never questioned. They are like the ears which nothing needs to fall upon. They usually put their phones on mute and have their secretaries give them a "personal conference" on the mahogany office table. They have lived past this phase of attending worthless con-calls and have arrived and exemplify the words of Eddy Temple (from the movie Layer Cake): "You're born, you take shit. You get out in the world, you take more shit. You climb a little higher, you take less shit. Till one day you're up in the rarefied atmosphere and you've forgotten what shit even looks like."
I, for one, am happy being a snoozer. What character are you?
1) The Not-So-Moderator: The Not-So-Moderator is the man leading the call, or the proverbial moderator. He/She is a person who is directly responsible for the project being discussed, but ironically having the least amount of knowledge about the very same. This person is usually the loudest and the most boring, and turns the meaning of the word "moderator" on its head. He is usually the man (or woman) with the smallest phallus, which has artificially been inflated with the use of words like "timeline", "closure", "convergence" and the like. You will frequently see this creature deliver a killer punch by saying, "I dont see why this has to take so long. It seems extremely simple", only to find that the activity in question is a huge, long-term task. Management usually rewards such people the most.
2) The One-Quote Inspirer: This is a character who is a man/woman of great dreams of ambition. This person aspires to be the Not-so-moderator, like anything. The One-quote-inspirer utters a statement of absolute positivity like, "dont worry Not-so-moderator, we are all with you on this", for which he/she is lauded no end. This person usually goes to sleep after the comment, because he/she has no more to add, and still felt his/her presence felt, as the voice of positivity in the sea of naysayers.
3) The Non-Committal KillJoy: Although, this person seems like a bore, he/she is a person who is incredibly interesting in an otherwise dull call. This person is usually the executive responsible for seeing the project to completion, failing which he/she would be disembowelled and fed to the pigs, to put it delicately. This person is picked on the most, because of his (it is usually always a man) Frankenstein-like power of speech (but not of conversation) and because he is not able to schmooze with the big boys. The characteristic trademark of this person is to ensure that no timelines for completion are given, ever. Timelines suggested by others are promptly shot down, because of reasons best known to him and some aliens in Jupiter. The reasons are usually on the lines of "approvals not available", "vendor not supporting", "several stakeholders are involved", etc. This person usually doesnt get busy with his spouse, because same non-committal attitude permeates into his personal life. The reasons given by this person are usually hilarious and he usually incurs the wrath of the Not-so-moderator immediately after the call.
5) The Minute Maid: This is the guy (and it is always a guy, as girls never take such lowly jobs) who prepares the minutes of the meeting. He doesnt understand a word, but he manages to just get his keyboard rolling around. His "minutes" are usually vague and more like "hours" or sometimes even "days", "months" or "years", in line with the spirit and outcome of the con-call in progress.
4) The Bad-Ass: The bad-ass is one who rarely opens his/her mouth, but whenever that mouth opens, it showers generously, negative energy and toxic waste on the Non-committal killjoy and sometimes, even the Not-so-moderator. The Bad-Ass is usually a senior (usually from another department) and he/she sees the participants like insignificant insects who will be crushed soon. He/She would retire to bed in a really comfortable apartment with mirrors everywhere, just in case. He/She usually nevers needs to open his/her mouth, the cold, malevolent stare can traverse phone lines and be in every other participant's face, except for...
5) The Snoozers: The snoozers are either top management or people who would quit in the next few months and set up a lucrative management consulting practice, where they would be paid way better for telling corporate clients to "involve more stakeholders in key meetings" and to bring in the concept of "synergy in diversity", a word which most management consultants use. The top management, on the other hand is never questioned. They are like the ears which nothing needs to fall upon. They usually put their phones on mute and have their secretaries give them a "personal conference" on the mahogany office table. They have lived past this phase of attending worthless con-calls and have arrived and exemplify the words of Eddy Temple (from the movie Layer Cake): "You're born, you take shit. You get out in the world, you take more shit. You climb a little higher, you take less shit. Till one day you're up in the rarefied atmosphere and you've forgotten what shit even looks like."
I, for one, am happy being a snoozer. What character are you?
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