Partha Sarathi MBA

"I am an MBA." He announced and laughed revealing his yellow teeth. He was standing in a corner, nursing a 90 of cheap whisky along with some beer. The veins were pronounced on his hands. He pulled the sleeves of his once off-white shirt yet again; it was an involuntary, nervous reaction I guess. I offered him a smoke. "I normally smoke Marlboro sir, but today I'll smoke my own Wills. Sorry eh?" He said. I shrugged and started talking to Sam. I ordered one more 60 of Old Monk rum.

"My name is Partha Sarathy." He continued. "Is that Godfather? Mario Puzo?"
I nodded in agreement and said "It is the latest in the series. This is not by Puzo though." He shook his head a hundred times and took the book from me. He pretended to seriously appraise the book and placed it on the wooden ledge that served as a place to set your drink down in Sapthagiri Wines. He finished his drink even before ours arrived. There was a bench along the wall and three guys occupied it. The leader of this group was already staring at Mr. Partha with adulation filled eyes.

"I helped this contractors get business worth Crores. Crores! And see what they have done to me. I told them that I didn't want a penny and walked off. Do you see this mobile phone? This is mine. I didn't even have money for the bus... I walked seven KM saar! Seven KM!"
He told his sad story. I was wary of him but Sam, as always, started his anthropo-neuro-psychological study, yet again. Sam introduced himself. Mr. Partha exclaimed, "So you are a doctor in Victoria? I know your chief... what's his name again?" Sam told him the Chief's name. "Ah yes! Same person. How is he? Don't tell him you met me here eh?" And he laughed that psychotic laugh again and said "I normally drink only in 3-star bars. But today..." He diverted his attention to me and said "...But today because of those bastards!" He tried to muffle his sobs. He wiped the tears with the sleeve of his dirty shirt.

I remained impassive. However, the trio on the bench were nonplussed and moved. The leader of the bench trio asked us in Kannada, "Yen aayithhu Saar? Ishtu Chennaga Ingleesh Maathadthaa idhaaney!" (or something to that effect) Sam explained to the bench trio about Mr. Partha and how his Contracting firm conned him of Crores. The leader of the trio immediately asked one of his gang members to stand up and make place for Mr. Partha.

Mr. Partha bummed a smoke from Leader as he sat down. He even spoke in broken Kannada. "I am an Iyengar sir. I can dictate 600 words a minute you know?" I nodded as I didn't know how the hell I should react to such a monumental statement. So I turned away and adjusted my position in that cubbyhole that was the bar behind Sapthagiri wines. I hardly had space to move my arm. With my back to Mr. Partha, I told Sam that we should be leaving. Sam nodded and he noticed that Mr. Partha was now putting a scheme on the trio. I lost interest, I mean I knew what his game was.

Mr. Partha called me after a few minutes. I turned around with a lot of difficulty. And he dropped his pitch on me.
"Don't mistake me..." He started, sipping on the whisky that he'd bummed from the trio who were sobbing now after listening to Mr. Partha's story.
"...I have to go to Chennai to meet my business partners." He paused as the Leader offered him some spicy Chicken.
"...I have to meet my partners in Chennai, and I left all my ATM cards in those bastards' office...can you give me 200 Rupees?" A brief silence ensued and it was broken by Manja, the waiter-boy, shouting out an order to the Counter: 'Half Khoday's rummu, ondhu packet Small illi!" I stared into Mr. Partha's eyes that were lodged in deep sockets. I smiled and said "If I had 200, why would I drink here?"

He chewed on it for a little while and said "Yes yes. How about 50? At least 20?" I said no. He shrugged as if he forgave me, started to say something, and decided against it. He returned his focus on the trio and started his pitch.

As I was leaving with Sam, he called out and said "Don't mistake me, ok?" I smiled and waved a bye to him. As I waited near the Counter to settle our bill, I could hear him swear at his Contracting firm and sob. I thought I also heard
"If not 500, at least 200? Yes, yes. I will transfer it online."
"..."
"Oh you don't have Internet okay! I'll give you a check, yes? Wonderful... Yeah just one more 60 for me sir... can't drink too much!"

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Chennai Vs Bangalore Debate

I wrote this post as a response to SelAm's post. First things first, I am a Chennai boy that lived in Andhra Pradesh for 20 years. I moved back to Chennai in 1993 and quit the city in 2001. I moved to Bangalore about five years back. I have lived in Pune and Indore. When I say lived, I mean lived there for at least six months.

I visited Bangalore first in 1996. I was deputed to Tata Yellow Pages's Bangalore office. I spent a couple of months there. As I was a salesman, I had to go around the city and thus was well acquainted with the city and its culture in a short time.

I don't know if one is predisposed to be biased about his home town, but I thought Chennai was better than Bangalore back then. There was no logic or rationale to that bias but I believed in it, fought for Chennai, and was quite sure I was right. My facts were rock solid: Chennai had better roads, better public transport... you know?

This is exactly where SelAm went wrong. If one were to go by infrastructure, I'd rate Kuwait better than Chennai or Bangalore. But, the question is, would you live in Kuwait? I won't. My liberty is more important than a pothole in the road. A city is not about roads and amenities. It is mostly about people. And culture. Both cities are rich in that regard. You really can't and should not choose between cultures. Each city has its unique personality and it'd be foolish to pose the question 'which has better culture?'

That said, we are left with this really tricky benchmark called 'Cosmopolitan'. Is Chennai more cosmopolitan? I don't think so. Having lived in Bangalore for close to five years, I can vouch for it: Bangalore is more cosmopolitan.

Take for example, food: the sheer number of cuisines Bangalore offers is a small yet significant testimony to that fact. I know people from Chennai will cry foul and throw a list of eateries in and around Chennai. Hang on people. I am talking accessibility and abundance here. Almost every street, lane corner has a food place in Bangalore. I *know* that is not the case in Chennai. Let's not even talk about variety of cuisines. Chennai is far behind Bangalore.

I think Bangaloreans are a liberal lot. This is my personal opinion but I don't think I can say that about Chennai. I thought of a million examples to illustrate my point but I thought better of it. It is *my* opinion! Bangalore's Cinemas show Tamil and Telugu movies. Chennai's don't show Kannada or too many Telugu movies. You tell me who is cosmopolitan.

There was some talk of who speaks better English on SelAm's post (see the comments). I don't understand the relevance of this point. So I choose not to respond to it.

Personally though, Bangalore makes better coffee than Chennai. Surprised? Walk into any of those 'Darshinis' and drink coffee.

Finally, I have to tell you this. Not because it is important but it reflects the hypocrisy of Chennai, the so called conservative 'Tamil' loving city.
Why the fuck do you need to be formally attired to go to a pub? And, these rules are only for us brown skinned bastards. If a white guy walked in clad in his undies, those ugly bouncers will let them in. Don't believe me? Why don't you try it yourself? 1) Residency Towers and 2) 10 Downing Street on North Boag road.

As far as the 'safe' city point, I don't think any of our cities are safe for women. So don't give me that bull on how Chennai is safer. No city is safe for Indian women in their country.

Don't rush to hate a city. You'll never realize how bad your crib is until you get out of it. And see some real cribs. I love Chennai for different reasons and Bangalore for different reasons. Though I was irritated with Indore, I grew to like it later. Or, my hometown bias has waned because I have lived in multiple towns. Whatever. I urge you to get your ass out and travel. Don't throw stones when you live in a... ok, I won't say it.

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Hats-off Chiba San!

At Toyota Kirloskar�s 10th anniversary do, a Japanese employee does the late Shankar Nag proud in the land of his birth, in the language of his life. [link]

Aside:This is an Ilayaraja number, which makes it more special.

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Scaly Breasted Munia

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White Cheeked Barbet

Got this guy in Cubbon Park. This is actually a very common bird. Every time you hear 'coottrrrr-coottrrrr' from atop a tree nearby, yeah, it is him making that heart-wrenching call.

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Monkey Mother

She was impassive as I clicked away. She just stared at me. Poignant!

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Weekend Birding

It was him! the Egret said pointing to the aquabatic Cormorant. This rather weird bird was hanging around with a family of ducks and when he was not, he was fishing in the lalbagh lake. He was careless enough to not spot a juicy water snake that swam right under his nose.


This diminutive bird of prey is supposed to be shy;at least during daytime according to popular belief. But this guy was almost shameless. He or she stared at me as I clicked away. For good measure, the bird turned so I could get a good view of the beautiful face.
More pics on my flickr space

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Tickell's flowerpecker

Went birding in the Hebbal lake and fell in love with the place: it is an avian paradise. I love the place more so because an amateur birder/photographer too can get some decent shots. I hope I got the bird's ID right. If not, do correct me people. See more pics from the Hebbal birding trip.

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Happy Holidays People :-)

:-) I know! I know! I am in an exuberant mood today and these days have become a rarity in my life. No, don't ask. Zip. So you're all set to go out there and have a ball eh? You lucky bastard?

Brigade road sports a blazing, festive look. There are bands playing in pubs. There is a definite energy in the air and pretty girls giggle and walk by you. I never quite understood why they giggle so much. Either they have a bottomless supply of jokes, or they do this to irritate boys. I don't care. To me, that giggle is music. You go girl. Giggle away and make my day.

Anyway, you get out there, drink, listen to some good old rock, and have lots of fun. Merry X-mas and a happy new year. And, drink one for me. All you bloggers out there in Bangalore, shut the hell up, get out, and party. Man!

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The Man That Shashi Kapoor Resembles

The other day Anita and I decided to meet up at Koshy's. The place was cacophonous, what with all the creative-types chattering away... firing empty words and thoughts into the cosmos. The waiter in his 43 year old uniform (that was never washed I am sure) took our order for drinks and we started talking. The drinks arrived in 44 year old glasses and we pounced on our drinks anyway.
Half way through our drinks I noticed this short, stocky old man staggering his way towards us. His wrinkled face told many a story and the slur of his speech told me that he was way past his alcohol limit.

"Have you-u s-seen Anand?" he asked me.
I was stumped. I didn't know if he was searching for a friend or if he was talking about the movie but thankfully he continued,
"Rajesh Kanna is going to d-die? Are you with me?"
And he took off on the movie: about how Rajesh Khanna meets strangers yada-yada. And suddenly he did a U-turn and asked, "Do you know Rajdeep Sardesai? That boy has started a new channel called CNN-IBN? Are you with me?"
I nodded not knowing what I should say.
"Yeah, he was interviewing this recluse director..."
I lost him.
And he suddenly said "I look like Shashi Kapoor?"
I thought we were still with Rajdeep and said,
"You mean the recluse director?" That pissed him off I think.
He said, "No, me! You don't think I look like Shashi Kapoor? I am the General Manager of the Taj hotels... you know Westend?"
I didn't know what hit me; the alcohol or the man and said,
"Of course you look like Shashi Kapoor!"
To which he said, "No he looks like me!"
And I said, "yeah, same difference."
He rummaged through the Journalist bag and produced a G.K. Vale cover. He pulled a photograph out. It was him, wearing a Monkey cap and a plastic smile that paled in comparison with the wrinkles on his face. He gave it to me and said, "It is for you. I have forty more. Don't worry, go on take it."
And he left us. He did not even acknowledge Anita's existence. He simply walked to the rest room. I have a soft copy of the picture but I am not posting it because I think it would violate his privacy. I mean what if a swarm of girls descend upon him when he is sipping his drink in Koshy's? No, I don't want to do that to him. I am sure he has been there, done that. ;-)
Well, it takes all kinds to make this planet spin I guess. I hope he finds warmth in the winter of his life. Oh well.

P.S. Read the Koshy's link in this post. Those bastards I tell you, ha ha.

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