The weekend was fabulous. Simply fabulous.
Was with friends back to back the whole of Saturday and Sunday. Saturday’s long lunch was with a bunch of seven odd friends, haven’t laughed that deliriously in a while now. Loved being with them.
And the gang I met up with on Saturday night was united and wise in its acceptance of the fact that sleep is a waste of time, so we whiled away the night in laughter, music, conversations, walks, ghost stories, and occasional coffee pangs. Didn’t sleep a wink.
So who were the people?
Presenting...in strictly alphabetical order, the people who made this last weekend one of the most memorable in my life:
1. Akash: Addicted to bikes, photography, and PJs. Wanted to gift me a helmet on Saturday. I love his smile, it’s perfect. Yes, he should put a price on it.
2. Anku: Has super awesome red and black specs, wears panda shaped earrings, and loves chaat. Warm hugger to boot. Loves my blog so I love her. Ok ok, I love you otherwise too, Anku.
3. Ankur: Has a fetish for spiders (ahem). Can make friends in a jiffy, and is a financial guru. Will be handling my portfolio exclusively when I become a multimillionaire after my first book.
4. Arup: Claims to be shy, but moderates a booming community on Orkut. Has a 24 carat absolutely golden heart. His list of qualities can run into pages.
5. Deepak: Proud Delhiite, fellow foodie, movie junkie, techie wizard, passionate photographer, and a friend. In terms of any crisis, Deepak is literally just a phone call away.
6. Prashant: My personal laugh machine. He can make stories out of any situation, any character. Enthusiastic to the boot, Prashant makes even my dullest day rock.
7. Rajarshi: Draws pictures of water tanks for a living (errr). My conscience keeper, shouldn’t you do more with your super sexy voice than just the occasional singing and the regular yelling at me?
8. Richa: Kiddi as I call her, is CM to the rest of the gang. Loves you with passion if you’re on her right side, which suits me fine. Competitive, hard working, yet often confused...Kiddi is a babe with attitude and intelligence.
9. Rohit: Fellow coffee lover, Kidda and I can chat non-stop on anything under the sun. We can crib, we can curse, we can frown, we can even yell at each other…and still feel as if it was the best conversation ever.
10. Shweta: With impeccable taste in clothes, food, movies and men, she is a sweetheart. She could teach firebrand observation skills to even the most prosaic on this earth.
11. Smita: Her infectious laughter is matched by her excellent listening and teaching skills. Loves Jagjit Singh, and lives in the mistaken belief that she cannot sing.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
HBTM
And so I turned 27 on July 19, 2006. Legend has it that I was supposed to arrive on this planet on July 17, but at the last minute changed my mind. Stayed put, right where I was, and it was only in the evening of the 19 that I decided to finally arrive after putting several doctors through severe stress and keeping my yet-to-become family on tenterhooks. As Mum says, I wanted to create an impression even back then. Desperate measures!
The last year has been particularly relevant.
1. I could come back to Delhi from Chandigarh, which lovely though it was, is not my hometown after all. Being independent, looking and setting up your own house, living on your own--are all necessary ‘coz they teach you so much--about bills, household chores, freedom, friendship, myriad social relationships, and solitude. Coming back home and living with your parents after that is not easy, because suddenly the freedom you had gotten used to (binges of all kinds, friends at odd hours, unlimited night-outs and partying, your timing and your rules) all these suddenly go out of the window. You once again have to get used to a life of discipline and deadline. But you are with your family again, with people who love you no matter how much you have screwed up or how badly you have behaved or how many things you have forgotten or simply refused to do out of sheer defiance or bad attitude. So today, a sincere thanks to my parents. As for brother? Well, I take him out often enough, so that’s compensated.
2. I could get back to publishing, after a gap of 18 months. At Quark in Chandigarh, I was part of the corporate communications team, again fun as much as it was, it isn’t the first love of my professional life. Here in Delhi, office was perfect. Right people, right work, right everything.
3. I got my own blog, first on yahoo 360 and then on popular instruction (from Deepak, Rohit and Prashant), shifted to blogspot. The going has been great so far, and it’s become life’s biggest passion. The posts have been written and continue to be written pretty much off the top of my head, yet most of the responses have been overwhelming. Almost 50 posts down and kirrinisland still remains my favorite haunt from the world outside.
4. I joined Orkut and met some wonderful people who have now become such close friends that I wonder why it took us so long to meet. From them I have re-learnt values like generosity, responsibility, cheerfulness, and loads of laughter. Thank you all for so much sunshine.
5. Friends who were already a part of life...fortunately continue being so. Be it the ones from school, Stephen’s, JNU, myriad offices, or some really strange connections...you once again reiterate my faith in the belief that you make a friend, you keep a friend.
So I loved last year, for all these reasons, but mostly because I could fulfill some very important promises made to myself.
Coming to the birthday itself, highlights of the mega event in chronological order, are:
1. Getting reconnected with a junior from school (St Anthonys, Hauz Khas) who hunted me down remembering that it was my birthday. Suruchi and I met after seven-eight years, and fortunately we still look and sound the same. She is doing very well for herself both personally and professionally, and I’m so proud of her! Meeting up with her reminded of a lot of things I used to do back then (completely unmentionable in a public place like this) and made me reach the sinking realization, “I am so much tamer and well-behaved now! Dammit!”
2. Being wished in the most bizarre manner by Prashant. He began calling/ smsing nearly ten days before the 19th. All with the question, “Ten days left for?” “Nine days to go for?”...and the answer I had to give was “Your exam on the 19th”, to which he would then respond with “Yes. Dammit, 19th is such an awful day, the worst day of the year”...and so on and so forth. Finally, at 11:30 pm on 18th he called to say, “Sayan, call me up at 12 will you?”
By this time, I was irritated as hell, I barked, “Why on earth should I call YOU at 12, you jerk?”
And he replied, “Arrey I have to study na! You have to call and check whether I am up and studying.”
Finally even when he did call me a minute past 12 on the 19th, he yapped uselessly for 15 minutes before saying the magic words. For the most imaginative birthday greeting on the phone that I have ever received, Prashant Bhardwaj...thank you! BIG HUG!
3. Bhardwaj junior wasn’t too far behind in terms of creativity. Richa called at 11.50 and blocked the phone till 12. Why? Because she had to beat Prashant and Rohit. She had to do a ME FIRST. Hee hee hee. Love that competitive spirit baby.
4. Timely phone call for the seventh year in a row from Sounak. Your record remains unbeaten! Time, geographical distances, and a million matters to ponder over...none have ever been an obstacle. Awesome.
5. I woke up at 7 am the next morning to find Rajarshi, Shweta and Smita at my house, and with gifts. Rajarshi had started from his home in Noida at 5:30 am, he then proceeded to pick up the ladies, and then they came to my house in Gurgaon. They could stay at my house for only an hour or so because work beckoned. But, even managing that one hour over such a vast distance and with full-time offices calls for a lot of effort. I was really touched, thank you so much.
6. The next impromptu visit was by Praveen, my dearest friend from JNU. He works for a well-known newspaper, and had his shift until 3 am in the morning that day. Yet, braving bad weather, boss, and exhaustion, he arrived armed with twenty-seven of the most beautiful, long-stemmed, fresh red roses I have ever seen in my life. Dude, you will always be one of my most favorite men EVER! (And not just because of the roses.)
7. Dinner was at a family favorite restaurant, Golden Dragon, with family. We, the Dasguptas, must have single-handedly contributed a significant amount to the restaurant’s growth, popularity and prosperity in NCR. Their pork spare ribs are usually to die for, and this time’s too was no exception.
8. Next night, that is on the 20th, another friend, Sudipto took me out dinner. He and I have been friends since we were five, and we grew up in the same neighborhood for a while. But it’s interesting how we have actually become close in the last year or so. Thank you buddy!
Last but certainly not the least, BIG thanks to everyone who called, smsed, mailed, or scrapped. Thank you for your wishes. Special mention to Rohit for checking every few hours how my birthday was going.
The last year has been particularly relevant.
1. I could come back to Delhi from Chandigarh, which lovely though it was, is not my hometown after all. Being independent, looking and setting up your own house, living on your own--are all necessary ‘coz they teach you so much--about bills, household chores, freedom, friendship, myriad social relationships, and solitude. Coming back home and living with your parents after that is not easy, because suddenly the freedom you had gotten used to (binges of all kinds, friends at odd hours, unlimited night-outs and partying, your timing and your rules) all these suddenly go out of the window. You once again have to get used to a life of discipline and deadline. But you are with your family again, with people who love you no matter how much you have screwed up or how badly you have behaved or how many things you have forgotten or simply refused to do out of sheer defiance or bad attitude. So today, a sincere thanks to my parents. As for brother? Well, I take him out often enough, so that’s compensated.
2. I could get back to publishing, after a gap of 18 months. At Quark in Chandigarh, I was part of the corporate communications team, again fun as much as it was, it isn’t the first love of my professional life. Here in Delhi, office was perfect. Right people, right work, right everything.
3. I got my own blog, first on yahoo 360 and then on popular instruction (from Deepak, Rohit and Prashant), shifted to blogspot. The going has been great so far, and it’s become life’s biggest passion. The posts have been written and continue to be written pretty much off the top of my head, yet most of the responses have been overwhelming. Almost 50 posts down and kirrinisland still remains my favorite haunt from the world outside.
4. I joined Orkut and met some wonderful people who have now become such close friends that I wonder why it took us so long to meet. From them I have re-learnt values like generosity, responsibility, cheerfulness, and loads of laughter. Thank you all for so much sunshine.
5. Friends who were already a part of life...fortunately continue being so. Be it the ones from school, Stephen’s, JNU, myriad offices, or some really strange connections...you once again reiterate my faith in the belief that you make a friend, you keep a friend.
So I loved last year, for all these reasons, but mostly because I could fulfill some very important promises made to myself.
Coming to the birthday itself, highlights of the mega event in chronological order, are:
1. Getting reconnected with a junior from school (St Anthonys, Hauz Khas) who hunted me down remembering that it was my birthday. Suruchi and I met after seven-eight years, and fortunately we still look and sound the same. She is doing very well for herself both personally and professionally, and I’m so proud of her! Meeting up with her reminded of a lot of things I used to do back then (completely unmentionable in a public place like this) and made me reach the sinking realization, “I am so much tamer and well-behaved now! Dammit!”
2. Being wished in the most bizarre manner by Prashant. He began calling/ smsing nearly ten days before the 19th. All with the question, “Ten days left for?” “Nine days to go for?”...and the answer I had to give was “Your exam on the 19th”, to which he would then respond with “Yes. Dammit, 19th is such an awful day, the worst day of the year”...and so on and so forth. Finally, at 11:30 pm on 18th he called to say, “Sayan, call me up at 12 will you?”
By this time, I was irritated as hell, I barked, “Why on earth should I call YOU at 12, you jerk?”
And he replied, “Arrey I have to study na! You have to call and check whether I am up and studying.”
Finally even when he did call me a minute past 12 on the 19th, he yapped uselessly for 15 minutes before saying the magic words. For the most imaginative birthday greeting on the phone that I have ever received, Prashant Bhardwaj...thank you! BIG HUG!
3. Bhardwaj junior wasn’t too far behind in terms of creativity. Richa called at 11.50 and blocked the phone till 12. Why? Because she had to beat Prashant and Rohit. She had to do a ME FIRST. Hee hee hee. Love that competitive spirit baby.
4. Timely phone call for the seventh year in a row from Sounak. Your record remains unbeaten! Time, geographical distances, and a million matters to ponder over...none have ever been an obstacle. Awesome.
5. I woke up at 7 am the next morning to find Rajarshi, Shweta and Smita at my house, and with gifts. Rajarshi had started from his home in Noida at 5:30 am, he then proceeded to pick up the ladies, and then they came to my house in Gurgaon. They could stay at my house for only an hour or so because work beckoned. But, even managing that one hour over such a vast distance and with full-time offices calls for a lot of effort. I was really touched, thank you so much.
6. The next impromptu visit was by Praveen, my dearest friend from JNU. He works for a well-known newspaper, and had his shift until 3 am in the morning that day. Yet, braving bad weather, boss, and exhaustion, he arrived armed with twenty-seven of the most beautiful, long-stemmed, fresh red roses I have ever seen in my life. Dude, you will always be one of my most favorite men EVER! (And not just because of the roses.)
7. Dinner was at a family favorite restaurant, Golden Dragon, with family. We, the Dasguptas, must have single-handedly contributed a significant amount to the restaurant’s growth, popularity and prosperity in NCR. Their pork spare ribs are usually to die for, and this time’s too was no exception.
8. Next night, that is on the 20th, another friend, Sudipto took me out dinner. He and I have been friends since we were five, and we grew up in the same neighborhood for a while. But it’s interesting how we have actually become close in the last year or so. Thank you buddy!
Last but certainly not the least, BIG thanks to everyone who called, smsed, mailed, or scrapped. Thank you for your wishes. Special mention to Rohit for checking every few hours how my birthday was going.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Book-ed
So I am back from a week long vacation with my brother to Calcutta, where we went to visit our grandparents. It was raining, it was green, it was slushy, and there were tons of great food to do justice to the awesome weather. The post on Calcutta will be up and running soon, but before that, I chanced upon this amazing tag on books on Swetank’s blog, and given my new found love for tags...here goes.
Number of books I own
About 300-350 is a reasonable estimate.
Number of books lent out to others that never came back
None. On principle, I do not lend books. And if I do, it will only be after I am convinced that you have the capacity to love my books as much as I love them.
Number of e-books I have
About 10 I think. I need my bed, or my bean bag, or at the very least a comfortable chair to read.
Last book I bought
Stephen King’s Skeleton Crew.
Last book I was gifted
Phire Dekha, a collection of Bengali short stories written by my Dad’s aunt, Jayati Gangopadhyay.
Last book I read
Handwritten, and written exclusively for me (after four years of declining my request)...my grandfather’s autobiography.
I'm currently reading
(For the nth time) Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban – J.K. Rowling
Authors I Love (this has been changed from Five Books That Mean A Lot to Me)
The success of a book (provided it is fiction) in my mind is not so much in the brilliance of the author’s words, it is in the creation of his characters and events. Because at the end of the day, a character is bigger than the author. It is the test of an author’s brilliance that his characters are so immortal that he is remembered through them, and not the other way around. Which is why, I love the following.
Chaman Nahal
There are books on the Partition and there are books on the Partition. It’s a never ending long list. But Nahal’s book Azadi is my favorite. Because of its characters, of how they react in that tiny village when they learn that the country has been partitioned, and that they are suddenly something called Pakistanis, and those who are not, have to give up everything they own, and come to what is now called India. Their bewilderment at not being consulted at any stage of this life-changing decision, their anger and shock, and eventual journey...everything left an impact.
Arthur Conan Doyle
I love the supernatural...be it in movies or books. If ever I decide to give it all up and do a PhD, it will be in something spooky.
Doyle’s brilliance in my mind lies not only in the creation of the very bright and very eccentric, and at times deliciously sexy Sherlock Holmes, it also lies in his multi-layered imagination. In my opinion his true genius lies in his lesser known albeit far more dazzling horror stories.
Jules Verne
For being the most imaginative science fiction writer ever. His Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea was about a submarine called Nautilus which ran on electricity. Today this is a common enough phenomena but Verne explained its functioning in great detail at a time when scientists where producing mere sparks of electricity in their laboratories. The Leagues’ hero, Captain Nemo left a huge impact on my childhood mind, one that refuses to budge to this day. His other book I dig is A Journey to the Center of the Earth. EXCITING!
J.K. Rowling
A writer without a crazy imagination and an inbuilt sense of humor is no writer at all. Rowling rocks for the sheer brilliance of her mind, for her often sarcastic and often right-on-the-surface sense of humor. For the range of unforgettable characters, supremely imaginative places and situations, and for Quidditch. Last but not the least for her increasingly market-savvy mind that understands her reader perfectly. Whether or not mainstream authors admit it, Rowling’s commercial acumen is probably an inspiration for everyone who wishes to get published one day.
Roald Dahl
Be it his writings for children, for young people, or for adults...Dahl is god-like for his choice of words, his cynicism and his imagination which can transform even the most “harmless” grandmother into a vicious murderer. No two stories are alike, nor are two characters, and his words are cut-throat when it comes to their ability to make you forget other authors and read Dahl again and again.
Bill Bryson
I love travel writing, whether it’s me blogging about my trips and travels, or reading other people’s adventures. In this day and age, with a hundred distractions available to every individual, humor is probably the most powerful tool a writer can use to hold a reader’s attention. Bryson excels in that brilliantly. His sense of humor is such that in the midst of reading his words, I have actually had to put the book aside because my stomach and jaw hurt from laughing so much. He observes the tiniest detail, has the ability to laugh at himself, has a questioning probing mind, and most importantly comes across as a wonderful traveller. You read him and you ask yourself, would I have had the intelligence to observe such simple yet awesome details if I was the one travelling and not him?
Books That Made Zero Sense To Me/ Or Books I Want To Burn
Rule of Four - Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason
What was the matter with the publisher, the editor, and most importantly the authors of the book? This has to be the worst thing I have ever read. AWFUL.
Who Moved My Cheese - Spencer Johnson
I have no time, energy, or inclination for self-help books.
The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint Exupéry
Yawn.
This book is supposed to be a classic but it wasn’t to me.
Things written by P.G. Wodehouse
Have tried a couple of his books, yeah so he is supposed to be the god of humor, I didn’t think so. I didn’t find anything even capable of making me break into a smile, so shoot me.
My most treasured books
Every book I own. Even my family members touch my books with my permission. I assure you, I am pretty non-scary and generous otherwise.
People I Tag
Again, anyone who reads this post. Answer as many as you like, want to get to know your side of the story.
Disclaimer: Too many Internet images used. Apologies! Just that I love all these folks so much, wanted to put a face to my worship.
Number of books I own
About 300-350 is a reasonable estimate.
Number of books lent out to others that never came back
None. On principle, I do not lend books. And if I do, it will only be after I am convinced that you have the capacity to love my books as much as I love them.
Number of e-books I have
About 10 I think. I need my bed, or my bean bag, or at the very least a comfortable chair to read.
Last book I bought
Stephen King’s Skeleton Crew.
Last book I was gifted
Phire Dekha, a collection of Bengali short stories written by my Dad’s aunt, Jayati Gangopadhyay.
Last book I read
Handwritten, and written exclusively for me (after four years of declining my request)...my grandfather’s autobiography.
I'm currently reading
(For the nth time) Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban – J.K. Rowling
Authors I Love (this has been changed from Five Books That Mean A Lot to Me)
The success of a book (provided it is fiction) in my mind is not so much in the brilliance of the author’s words, it is in the creation of his characters and events. Because at the end of the day, a character is bigger than the author. It is the test of an author’s brilliance that his characters are so immortal that he is remembered through them, and not the other way around. Which is why, I love the following.
Chaman Nahal
There are books on the Partition and there are books on the Partition. It’s a never ending long list. But Nahal’s book Azadi is my favorite. Because of its characters, of how they react in that tiny village when they learn that the country has been partitioned, and that they are suddenly something called Pakistanis, and those who are not, have to give up everything they own, and come to what is now called India. Their bewilderment at not being consulted at any stage of this life-changing decision, their anger and shock, and eventual journey...everything left an impact.
Arthur Conan Doyle
I love the supernatural...be it in movies or books. If ever I decide to give it all up and do a PhD, it will be in something spooky.
Doyle’s brilliance in my mind lies not only in the creation of the very bright and very eccentric, and at times deliciously sexy Sherlock Holmes, it also lies in his multi-layered imagination. In my opinion his true genius lies in his lesser known albeit far more dazzling horror stories.
Jules Verne
For being the most imaginative science fiction writer ever. His Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea was about a submarine called Nautilus which ran on electricity. Today this is a common enough phenomena but Verne explained its functioning in great detail at a time when scientists where producing mere sparks of electricity in their laboratories. The Leagues’ hero, Captain Nemo left a huge impact on my childhood mind, one that refuses to budge to this day. His other book I dig is A Journey to the Center of the Earth. EXCITING!
J.K. Rowling
A writer without a crazy imagination and an inbuilt sense of humor is no writer at all. Rowling rocks for the sheer brilliance of her mind, for her often sarcastic and often right-on-the-surface sense of humor. For the range of unforgettable characters, supremely imaginative places and situations, and for Quidditch. Last but not the least for her increasingly market-savvy mind that understands her reader perfectly. Whether or not mainstream authors admit it, Rowling’s commercial acumen is probably an inspiration for everyone who wishes to get published one day.
Roald Dahl
Be it his writings for children, for young people, or for adults...Dahl is god-like for his choice of words, his cynicism and his imagination which can transform even the most “harmless” grandmother into a vicious murderer. No two stories are alike, nor are two characters, and his words are cut-throat when it comes to their ability to make you forget other authors and read Dahl again and again.
Bill Bryson
I love travel writing, whether it’s me blogging about my trips and travels, or reading other people’s adventures. In this day and age, with a hundred distractions available to every individual, humor is probably the most powerful tool a writer can use to hold a reader’s attention. Bryson excels in that brilliantly. His sense of humor is such that in the midst of reading his words, I have actually had to put the book aside because my stomach and jaw hurt from laughing so much. He observes the tiniest detail, has the ability to laugh at himself, has a questioning probing mind, and most importantly comes across as a wonderful traveller. You read him and you ask yourself, would I have had the intelligence to observe such simple yet awesome details if I was the one travelling and not him?
Books That Made Zero Sense To Me/ Or Books I Want To Burn
Rule of Four - Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason
What was the matter with the publisher, the editor, and most importantly the authors of the book? This has to be the worst thing I have ever read. AWFUL.
Who Moved My Cheese - Spencer Johnson
I have no time, energy, or inclination for self-help books.
The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint Exupéry
Yawn.
This book is supposed to be a classic but it wasn’t to me.
Things written by P.G. Wodehouse
Have tried a couple of his books, yeah so he is supposed to be the god of humor, I didn’t think so. I didn’t find anything even capable of making me break into a smile, so shoot me.
My most treasured books
Every book I own. Even my family members touch my books with my permission. I assure you, I am pretty non-scary and generous otherwise.
People I Tag
Again, anyone who reads this post. Answer as many as you like, want to get to know your side of the story.
Disclaimer: Too many Internet images used. Apologies! Just that I love all these folks so much, wanted to put a face to my worship.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
OG
My first ‘proper’ job was at Sage Publications. I joined them in October 2002, fresh out of JNU...armed with an M.A. Getting through Sage was tough, rightfully so, since it is one of the most well-known academic publishing houses in the world. There were a series of tests and finally the interview. I remember my first impression of Sage very well. Friendly. The people genuinely seemed to like each other and get along fabulously well. At the same time, Sage meant serious business. There were neatly stacked books on every available shelf, and book covers adorned the walls. I could see haloed names of celebrated authors, including some of my own teachers, peeping out.
The lady who interviewed me — the day was October 3, 2002 — wore a yellow sari, somewhat oversized glasses, and had the nicest smile. Later I learnt that she was the head of the editorial. Everyone called her OG, thanks to the Sage practice of using initials for every employee. The interview went well, and I was made an assistant editor at Sage. Life was perfect!
I was at Sage for only three months...my loss entirely. I quit because Rupa and Co. beckoned. And the lure of mainstream, trade publishing was hard to resist. I thought the books were going to be fun-ner and they were to a great extent, so no regrets there.
But my association with OG was to continue. In so many ways, she set the standard for what I consider perfect office behavior, and try as I might to emulate them, being OG will be impossible. First of all, she had all the answers. English grammar was her best friend, she knew what to do with it always. Secondly, OG always had time for all of us. Any one could just walk in to her cabin to clarify a doubt, to chat, to learn. There were several rungs of people between me and her, but I always went to her, with the silliest of doubts. If she was super busy she said so, if she was just merely busy she quickly looked up and answered. And the best part? She treated all of us with the same respect. No question was unimportant, no person insignificant.
Fast forward to 2004. I had applied for a job at Quark — makers of the bestselling software QuarkXPress — a tool used by nearly 75 percent of the publishing world. They wanted to speak to my references before finalizing the job. It was OG again. She obviously sold me well because I “got” Quark. A year and a half at Quark, and I was bored. Wanted to come back to hardcore publishing, so started looking around. Finally got an excellent job with an independent publisher. I will call them T. Everything got finalized, I quit Quark, came back to Delhi from Chandigarh, only to discover that T had executed an “abandon Sayantani” plan. So I was actually jobless. News reached Chandigarh, and I was kindly offered a job again. It meant going back to something I didn’t want to do, but beggars can’t be choosers. Two days before actually leaving for Chandigarh, I called OG. And she said, “I am no longer at Sage. I am at Routledge. Come and take a test.”
Today is July 7, 2006, and I am ten months old at Routledge. My boss is the original rock star, OG, once again.
And here are some of the reasons why she rocks!
1. She can edit anything with her eyes closed. Seriously.
2. There is a complete copy of the Chicago in her head (the Chicago Manual of Style is the Bible of editors all around the world.)
3. She is so well-read that she makes a lot of us look like kindergarteners.
4. She is the world’s most creative doodler. It is a joy sitting next to her during a seminar. She doodles feverishly, and with great passion, as if it is a dying art.
5. Her hardware/software doubts make me look like a tech guru.
6. She has over twenty years of hardcore publishing experience. I doubt whether there is anyone in the world of academic publishing who hasn’t heard her name. Also, of the various editors spread across publishing houses in India today, a huge majority must owe its training to OG.
7. Her cook makes the world’s best baigan ka bharta, palak paneer, and beans.
8. She has flawless taste when it comes to clothes, music (err), shoes, food, desserts, and people.
9. Her people skills are fabulous. She can make even the most cynical author eat out of her hands.
10. She is the most grounded and down to earth person ever.
11. There cannot be a finer example for the term “best boss”. Responsible, attentive, well-organized, patient, and a great teacher...OG is all this and more.
12. Most importantly, OG has the affection and tolerance to participate in conversations with me that start somewhat like this:
• I think I will marry Kailash Kher...no OG, no other singer will do, Kher it is.
• I want a tattoo...of a bird, no a horse, or how about a sun, or should it be a fish?
• May I not work today...instead may I Orkut? Or blog?
• I will bring up my first child as a Sardar because baby Sardars and their turbans are adorable
• I think I will have twin boys, and name them Babbu and Gosha.
• I have decided whom I love the most today.
• Why do we have authors? Why can’t we just write all our stuff ourselves? That way we don’t have to edit.
• Why can’t I toss dumb people from the window of this building? Alternately, send them to Siberia?
• I don’t think I love you at all anymore. How could you give me this book?
• How can you not like Shah Rukh Khan in DDLJ? What is wrong with you?
• You don’t like Indian Ocean! OG, that is seriously so not done.
• I am going out of town this weekend with friends. We will probably get back to Delhi at an unearthly time. My parents will kill me if I reach home that late. May I stay with you?
May I? Always?
The lady who interviewed me — the day was October 3, 2002 — wore a yellow sari, somewhat oversized glasses, and had the nicest smile. Later I learnt that she was the head of the editorial. Everyone called her OG, thanks to the Sage practice of using initials for every employee. The interview went well, and I was made an assistant editor at Sage. Life was perfect!
I was at Sage for only three months...my loss entirely. I quit because Rupa and Co. beckoned. And the lure of mainstream, trade publishing was hard to resist. I thought the books were going to be fun-ner and they were to a great extent, so no regrets there.
But my association with OG was to continue. In so many ways, she set the standard for what I consider perfect office behavior, and try as I might to emulate them, being OG will be impossible. First of all, she had all the answers. English grammar was her best friend, she knew what to do with it always. Secondly, OG always had time for all of us. Any one could just walk in to her cabin to clarify a doubt, to chat, to learn. There were several rungs of people between me and her, but I always went to her, with the silliest of doubts. If she was super busy she said so, if she was just merely busy she quickly looked up and answered. And the best part? She treated all of us with the same respect. No question was unimportant, no person insignificant.
Fast forward to 2004. I had applied for a job at Quark — makers of the bestselling software QuarkXPress — a tool used by nearly 75 percent of the publishing world. They wanted to speak to my references before finalizing the job. It was OG again. She obviously sold me well because I “got” Quark. A year and a half at Quark, and I was bored. Wanted to come back to hardcore publishing, so started looking around. Finally got an excellent job with an independent publisher. I will call them T. Everything got finalized, I quit Quark, came back to Delhi from Chandigarh, only to discover that T had executed an “abandon Sayantani” plan. So I was actually jobless. News reached Chandigarh, and I was kindly offered a job again. It meant going back to something I didn’t want to do, but beggars can’t be choosers. Two days before actually leaving for Chandigarh, I called OG. And she said, “I am no longer at Sage. I am at Routledge. Come and take a test.”
Today is July 7, 2006, and I am ten months old at Routledge. My boss is the original rock star, OG, once again.
And here are some of the reasons why she rocks!
1. She can edit anything with her eyes closed. Seriously.
2. There is a complete copy of the Chicago in her head (the Chicago Manual of Style is the Bible of editors all around the world.)
3. She is so well-read that she makes a lot of us look like kindergarteners.
4. She is the world’s most creative doodler. It is a joy sitting next to her during a seminar. She doodles feverishly, and with great passion, as if it is a dying art.
5. Her hardware/software doubts make me look like a tech guru.
6. She has over twenty years of hardcore publishing experience. I doubt whether there is anyone in the world of academic publishing who hasn’t heard her name. Also, of the various editors spread across publishing houses in India today, a huge majority must owe its training to OG.
7. Her cook makes the world’s best baigan ka bharta, palak paneer, and beans.
8. She has flawless taste when it comes to clothes, music (err), shoes, food, desserts, and people.
9. Her people skills are fabulous. She can make even the most cynical author eat out of her hands.
10. She is the most grounded and down to earth person ever.
11. There cannot be a finer example for the term “best boss”. Responsible, attentive, well-organized, patient, and a great teacher...OG is all this and more.
12. Most importantly, OG has the affection and tolerance to participate in conversations with me that start somewhat like this:
• I think I will marry Kailash Kher...no OG, no other singer will do, Kher it is.
• I want a tattoo...of a bird, no a horse, or how about a sun, or should it be a fish?
• May I not work today...instead may I Orkut? Or blog?
• I will bring up my first child as a Sardar because baby Sardars and their turbans are adorable
• I think I will have twin boys, and name them Babbu and Gosha.
• I have decided whom I love the most today.
• Why do we have authors? Why can’t we just write all our stuff ourselves? That way we don’t have to edit.
• Why can’t I toss dumb people from the window of this building? Alternately, send them to Siberia?
• I don’t think I love you at all anymore. How could you give me this book?
• How can you not like Shah Rukh Khan in DDLJ? What is wrong with you?
• You don’t like Indian Ocean! OG, that is seriously so not done.
• I am going out of town this weekend with friends. We will probably get back to Delhi at an unearthly time. My parents will kill me if I reach home that late. May I stay with you?
May I? Always?
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Wisdom of the Day
The advantages of pubbing with an all male group are:
1. No matter how fancy the place, you can do away with cutlery and eat with your hands.
2. No matter how much you eat or drink it will always be less than their portion. A guilt free conscience is the best kind to have.
3. Because of some warped sense of chivalry and “Come on Sayan, you ate so little!” you are not expected to pitch in with the tab.
4. Transport will almost always be taken care of.
5. And the crowning glory? You are given a free hand when it comes to the menu. “Your choice Sayan”...the three most beautiful words in the world.
Photo credit: The Internet. I have never liked the idea of using unknown uncredited sources. But this time is an exception.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Blank Noise
A few years ago, when I was in College, I distinctly remember a conversation I had with this friend who had just come back from a trip to Europe. I will never forget how she said that everywhere she went she was treated and looked upon as an individual, and not an object. I am not sure I understood it very well back then, but today I know what she means.
The easiest explanation for this is: I often go out for coffee with a colleague I am good friends with. And he is undoubtedly one of the few men in my life who does not think that any woman around, no matter what the venue or the occasion, deserves a thorough checking out. Right from his body language to his words to his behavior, everything is geared towards the idea that before you are either a man or a woman, you are an individual. Probably that has something to do with his tremendously good manners that come to the surface no matter what the occasion or who the person. Or perhaps because he has spent several years abroad. Or may be because he is extremely well-educated. Or perhaps it’s a combination of all these three together, or perhaps none of them. May be it’s just him.
I came across Blank Noise in the India Today dated June 19, and then again on July 1 on the news channel Times Now. It’s a project started by Jasmeen Patheja, a Bangalorean. The project protests against eve teasing, because whether done openly or beneath the veneer of sophistication, it IS an offence.
On the television show, what one of the Blank Noise volunteers said made perfect sense. That here in India no one, not even the women themselves, take eve-teasing as a serious offence. It’s something that all of us deal with right from childhood and hence we consider it normal. And we react, if at all we do, only when the offence is beyond endurance levels. Until that time, we ourselves don’t react because we are so used to being part of a strange society where no matter what the crime is against the woman, the first question that’s always asked is, “What was she wearing?” The implication thus being that the man has no reason to control his actions. He really need not because it's not his fault. He is doing whatever he is doing, or has done whatever he has done...be it mentally undressing a woman, or checking her assets, or committing something far more heinous...simply because of the woman's clothes, because through her clothes she asked for it. In other words, he was pushed into doing whatever he did because of clothes that another individual wore, and not because his mind told him to do so.
Kind of blurs the meaning of the word ‘victim’ doesn’t it?
The easiest explanation for this is: I often go out for coffee with a colleague I am good friends with. And he is undoubtedly one of the few men in my life who does not think that any woman around, no matter what the venue or the occasion, deserves a thorough checking out. Right from his body language to his words to his behavior, everything is geared towards the idea that before you are either a man or a woman, you are an individual. Probably that has something to do with his tremendously good manners that come to the surface no matter what the occasion or who the person. Or perhaps because he has spent several years abroad. Or may be because he is extremely well-educated. Or perhaps it’s a combination of all these three together, or perhaps none of them. May be it’s just him.
I came across Blank Noise in the India Today dated June 19, and then again on July 1 on the news channel Times Now. It’s a project started by Jasmeen Patheja, a Bangalorean. The project protests against eve teasing, because whether done openly or beneath the veneer of sophistication, it IS an offence.
On the television show, what one of the Blank Noise volunteers said made perfect sense. That here in India no one, not even the women themselves, take eve-teasing as a serious offence. It’s something that all of us deal with right from childhood and hence we consider it normal. And we react, if at all we do, only when the offence is beyond endurance levels. Until that time, we ourselves don’t react because we are so used to being part of a strange society where no matter what the crime is against the woman, the first question that’s always asked is, “What was she wearing?” The implication thus being that the man has no reason to control his actions. He really need not because it's not his fault. He is doing whatever he is doing, or has done whatever he has done...be it mentally undressing a woman, or checking her assets, or committing something far more heinous...simply because of the woman's clothes, because through her clothes she asked for it. In other words, he was pushed into doing whatever he did because of clothes that another individual wore, and not because his mind told him to do so.
Kind of blurs the meaning of the word ‘victim’ doesn’t it?
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