This is for all my friends from FMS. I wrote this for my fresher's welcome and I just incovered it in some old papers. Enjoy the nostalgia!
FMS
Why lines on the graph define the bounds
Why solutions are rejected on feasibility grounds
Why OR is an activity that confounds
Narag expounds
Why importance is not of the soap but smell
Why sales go up by an attractive shell
What will not and what will sell
Anand will tell
Why humans are separate from other resources
Why these can wield some formidable forces
Why we have to take some HRM courses
Mamkootam endorses
Why debit is debit and credit is credit
Why engineers and mathematicians dread it
Why accountants and their ilk have rigourously read it
Madhu Vij has said it
Why Information Systems are important too
Why the techy guys do what they do
Why the IIT types gloat and the others go blue
Singla has no clue!!!!
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Junta will rule
Diplomacy is all about standing for contradictions with conviction! Or so I gather from the latest statement by the US foreign office!
Recently it was in the news
USA had expressed its views
That Pakistan should embrace
A more mellow democratic face.
They said they would tolerate
A schizophrenic head of state
On condition that he declare
Future polls to be free and fair!
Is this serious or a joke?
Don’t they really know the bloke?
In the current circumstances
Would he ever take his chances?
Musharraf is nobody’s fool
When he says the “junta” will rule
He is being foxy and sly
But in all honesty he does not lie!
The military junta that he leads
Draws its power as it breeds
Leaders with a feudal hand
In a poor and violent land.
Henry Ford in another age
Sold his cars with the adage
“Buy any color in the rack
As long as the car is black!”
The General takes a similar cue
And gives democracy its due.
“Vote for the most deserving,” means
“As long as they’re dressed in olive greens!”
Recently it was in the news
USA had expressed its views
That Pakistan should embrace
A more mellow democratic face.
They said they would tolerate
A schizophrenic head of state
On condition that he declare
Future polls to be free and fair!
Is this serious or a joke?
Don’t they really know the bloke?
In the current circumstances
Would he ever take his chances?
Musharraf is nobody’s fool
When he says the “junta” will rule
He is being foxy and sly
But in all honesty he does not lie!
The military junta that he leads
Draws its power as it breeds
Leaders with a feudal hand
In a poor and violent land.
Henry Ford in another age
Sold his cars with the adage
“Buy any color in the rack
As long as the car is black!”
The General takes a similar cue
And gives democracy its due.
“Vote for the most deserving,” means
“As long as they’re dressed in olive greens!”
Saturday, June 16, 2007
A case against body language
Anjali was a lawyer. A pretty one at that. Somebody persuaded her to pose for a girlie magazine and all hell broke lose. The Delhi Bar Association (DBA) was up in arms demanding she be debarred from practice. The logic eluded me till I dug deeper...
For some odd reason she wanted to defy
Social norms and customs, don’t ask me why
And she wasn’t too demure, she wasn’t too shy
So she took off her clothes for the voyeurs eye.
She’s smart and capable, she’s done her law
God only knows why she wanted to draw
Attention, ensuring everybody saw
A lawyer posing for a picture in the raw.
Well, I guess you can say, “Each to his own
It was her own body she wanted shown
Why should it have become a contentious bone
And the issue out of all proportion blown?
The DBA has a certain point of view
What if the magazines particular issue
Has been seen by the Hon’ble judges too?
Do I have to spell out the ramifications to you?
Each time that she would present a case
Would the judges (in their minds) see only her face?
Come on, judges are judges, but can they place
Hard facts before an argument of lingerie and lace?
And then under which article or sub section
Will the opposing attorney raise an objection
When the critical point of interjection
Is the Hon’ble Judges obvious erection?
Let me see, am I correct if I guage
That this outburst of indignation and rage
Is because of the indiscriminate usage
Of the powerful tool of body language!
Body language, then is the culprit
As a tool of argument, should be banned by writ.
Lawyers should now wear a strait jacket
And when this is done…Anjali will quit.
For some odd reason she wanted to defy
Social norms and customs, don’t ask me why
And she wasn’t too demure, she wasn’t too shy
So she took off her clothes for the voyeurs eye.
She’s smart and capable, she’s done her law
God only knows why she wanted to draw
Attention, ensuring everybody saw
A lawyer posing for a picture in the raw.
Well, I guess you can say, “Each to his own
It was her own body she wanted shown
Why should it have become a contentious bone
And the issue out of all proportion blown?
The DBA has a certain point of view
What if the magazines particular issue
Has been seen by the Hon’ble judges too?
Do I have to spell out the ramifications to you?
Each time that she would present a case
Would the judges (in their minds) see only her face?
Come on, judges are judges, but can they place
Hard facts before an argument of lingerie and lace?
And then under which article or sub section
Will the opposing attorney raise an objection
When the critical point of interjection
Is the Hon’ble Judges obvious erection?
Let me see, am I correct if I guage
That this outburst of indignation and rage
Is because of the indiscriminate usage
Of the powerful tool of body language!
Body language, then is the culprit
As a tool of argument, should be banned by writ.
Lawyers should now wear a strait jacket
And when this is done…Anjali will quit.
Elegy on the massacre of my moustache
Male visitors to this blog would empathise more closely with this. Shaving the upper lip for the first time is always an ordeal. And when it has been an important feature on your face, the repurcussions can be devastating. As I found out many many years ago!
It was Monday morn
When I was shorn
In a hurried shaving session
Of my manly possession
And a whiskerless Sanjeev Bhargava was born.
In the form of a fatal slip,
Tragedy struck my upper lip
And when my eyes caught mine in the mirror
With as expression of dismay and terror
My heart went down for an abdominal trip.
There was this goon
With a hairless moon
Who peers from the mirror and inspects
My face for the very emblem of my sex
But finds no hair to trim and prune.
Aghast and petrified I stood
As a court martialled soldier would.
But looking at the brighter side I thought
I can live without a mush why not
And so decided it was gone for good.
Now people did stare
At the massacred hair.
As they looked and for long after
They indulgently burst into foolish laughter
At the simple fact that my face seemed bare.
Some smart alec trying to be witty
Asked me not to indulge in self-pity.
With a face shaven clean and spic and span
I had transformed myself into a man
Who was petite, demure and extremely pretty.
Defeated dejected and at a loss
Beaten ridiculed angry and cross
Eating humble pie with humble sauce
Letting public opinion be the boss
I decided again to grow the moss.
It was Monday morn
When I was shorn
In a hurried shaving session
Of my manly possession
And a whiskerless Sanjeev Bhargava was born.
In the form of a fatal slip,
Tragedy struck my upper lip
And when my eyes caught mine in the mirror
With as expression of dismay and terror
My heart went down for an abdominal trip.
There was this goon
With a hairless moon
Who peers from the mirror and inspects
My face for the very emblem of my sex
But finds no hair to trim and prune.
Aghast and petrified I stood
As a court martialled soldier would.
But looking at the brighter side I thought
I can live without a mush why not
And so decided it was gone for good.
Now people did stare
At the massacred hair.
As they looked and for long after
They indulgently burst into foolish laughter
At the simple fact that my face seemed bare.
Some smart alec trying to be witty
Asked me not to indulge in self-pity.
With a face shaven clean and spic and span
I had transformed myself into a man
Who was petite, demure and extremely pretty.
Defeated dejected and at a loss
Beaten ridiculed angry and cross
Eating humble pie with humble sauce
Letting public opinion be the boss
I decided again to grow the moss.
The world is so unfair... By George Bush Jr.
Some years ago, the Iraq war was at its peak and the Bush Propaganda likewise. what were his real intents? Why were WMDs never found? Questions that inspired this satire on Bush.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I work so hard
To play my card
And grab Iraqi oil.
But shits like France
Go take a stance
And try to act the foil.
I give it a go
With the Brits in tow
Now the Brits will want THEIR share.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I send in the troops
And they go “Oops!
Iraqis are fighting back!”
I’d given them spiel
That the victims would feel
Grateful for the attack.
Now the Yank and his brother
Are shooting each other
And blaming me for the affair.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I awed and shocked
The general who mocked
My power to attack.
But he’s rebelling again
By killing my men
Throwing my gameplan out of wack.
I bomb and maim
To end his game
But he keeps on STANDING there.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
Now look at his gall
Before his fall
He captures some of my guys.
He treats them well
But what the hell
They are on TV with his lies.
I scream and howl
And I cry foul
It’s AGAINST THE RULES, I swear.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I’m about to blast
More bombs than the past
On that god forsaken nation
I’ll shake and rattle
Saddam in battle
To establish my high station
Thousands be killed
That is GOD willed
Not by me or Tony Blair.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
When the oil is mine
Everything will be fine
Blood does not cost that much.
It’s old fashioned greed
That’s done the deed
And Saddam is just a crutch.
I was always a fool
Now they call me cruel
Its an insult that I can’t bear.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I work so hard
To play my card
And grab Iraqi oil.
But shits like France
Go take a stance
And try to act the foil.
I give it a go
With the Brits in tow
Now the Brits will want THEIR share.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I send in the troops
And they go “Oops!
Iraqis are fighting back!”
I’d given them spiel
That the victims would feel
Grateful for the attack.
Now the Yank and his brother
Are shooting each other
And blaming me for the affair.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I awed and shocked
The general who mocked
My power to attack.
But he’s rebelling again
By killing my men
Throwing my gameplan out of wack.
I bomb and maim
To end his game
But he keeps on STANDING there.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
Now look at his gall
Before his fall
He captures some of my guys.
He treats them well
But what the hell
They are on TV with his lies.
I scream and howl
And I cry foul
It’s AGAINST THE RULES, I swear.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
I’m about to blast
More bombs than the past
On that god forsaken nation
I’ll shake and rattle
Saddam in battle
To establish my high station
Thousands be killed
That is GOD willed
Not by me or Tony Blair.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
When the oil is mine
Everything will be fine
Blood does not cost that much.
It’s old fashioned greed
That’s done the deed
And Saddam is just a crutch.
I was always a fool
Now they call me cruel
Its an insult that I can’t bear.
The world is so unfair, you know
The world is so unfair.
Golden moments on the Golden Gate
Ex-flames have a way of coming back into a life which is not entirely your own! Mine is half way across the globe but I still cherish the time I get to spend with her. We decided to go to the Golden Gate. As she parked the car, she shoved some quarters into the parking meter. Now that meter really dictated how much time we would spend on the most awesome bridge in the world...
At the edge of a scenic bay
A parking meter ticks away
Marking the time with ruthlessness
As I walk in step with happiness
The winds that touch me kiss your face.
Caress your hair with gentle grace
A bond so soft. A thought so bold.
It makes me dream. It leaves you cold.
Life zips by on a four lane street
Time stands still as I drag my feet.
Tall skylines on the shore remind
Of a world that’s almost left behind.
The shimmering sea. The verdant hills.
The bridge and the wonder it instills.
The awesome vista begs a view.
But I have eyes only for you.
The shores seem misty miles away.
The sea a distant mass of gray.
The sky an endless void above.
I feel the closeness of my love.
And then the parking meter ends
Its ticking and abruptly sends
Me hurtling back to reality.
A lump in throat and self pity.
How I wish that I could barter
This dream with another quarter.
Slip in the coin and twist it through.
And buy the time to be with you.
At the edge of a scenic bay
A parking meter ticks away
Marking the time with ruthlessness
As I walk in step with happiness
The winds that touch me kiss your face.
Caress your hair with gentle grace
A bond so soft. A thought so bold.
It makes me dream. It leaves you cold.
Life zips by on a four lane street
Time stands still as I drag my feet.
Tall skylines on the shore remind
Of a world that’s almost left behind.
The shimmering sea. The verdant hills.
The bridge and the wonder it instills.
The awesome vista begs a view.
But I have eyes only for you.
The shores seem misty miles away.
The sea a distant mass of gray.
The sky an endless void above.
I feel the closeness of my love.
And then the parking meter ends
Its ticking and abruptly sends
Me hurtling back to reality.
A lump in throat and self pity.
How I wish that I could barter
This dream with another quarter.
Slip in the coin and twist it through.
And buy the time to be with you.
All about idols
Pblic life is full of idols. As a common man, I have made heroes out of people in public life. Be they politicians, film stars, sports personalities or even social workers. I invest them with super human traits in my own imagination and idolise them beyond the reality. So here is to our heroes and the tough act they have to follow.
Idols I’ve noticed, are perfect in form
Stoic in the face of sunshine and storm
In postures that lead to stiff necks and backs
Idols I’ve noticed, never relax.
Pedestals I’ve noticed further expose
Idols to… their idolatary woes.
Holding them aloft for the public eye
Pedestals I’ve noticed, are always too high.
Sculptors I’ve noticed live in dreamland
Creating fantasy from marble and sand
Limitations of flesh just do not exist
A sculptor I’ve noticed, is a perfectionist.
Romantics I’ve noticed are sculptors in parts
Making idols of those they love in their hearts.
Reality checks are a big compromise
So romantics, I’ve noticed are comfortable with lies.
Idols I’ve noticed, are perfect in form
Stoic in the face of sunshine and storm
In postures that lead to stiff necks and backs
Idols I’ve noticed, never relax.
Pedestals I’ve noticed further expose
Idols to… their idolatary woes.
Holding them aloft for the public eye
Pedestals I’ve noticed, are always too high.
Sculptors I’ve noticed live in dreamland
Creating fantasy from marble and sand
Limitations of flesh just do not exist
A sculptor I’ve noticed, is a perfectionist.
Romantics I’ve noticed are sculptors in parts
Making idols of those they love in their hearts.
Reality checks are a big compromise
So romantics, I’ve noticed are comfortable with lies.
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