Google Translate misadeventures

I did one of the stupidest things in office today.
I was trying to reply to a friend's comment on facebook. I wanted to do a google translate from English to Japanese since the friend was in Japan.
After the translation was done I wanted to listen to it.
So I switched on the laptop volume button and listened through my earphone.
I listened to the words.
Then I got slightly curious and went on to do some translate from Hindi to English of some unpublishable words. Obviously google wouldn't translate it. Then I went on to to play the phonetic version in English to see how it sounds. Somehow the pronunciation wasn't right. So I modified the spelling again and played it a couple of times and got it right.
I then somehow realized something was wrong...and that's when it struck me...the earphones I was wearing was plugged into my cellphone and not my laptop. What the !!!
All this while I thought I was the only one listening to whatever sounds my laptop was making whereas everyone in office could hear it.
I forgot about the fact that I had connected the earphones to my cellphone and I was listening to RJ Mehek on the radio.
Man...it was embarrassing.
Of course no there was no direct line of sight to the other cubicles around me, but I guess a few people might have heard. I checked the laptop volume. It was low. However if I could hear the sounds over my earphone music, I bet others could have too.
Let's see. No one has responded yet though.
Good thing is it's almost 6pm on a Friday evening. The number of people in office at this time won't be too high.
Man....how could I?

At the Barber's

The board read ‘QB House – 10 mins just cut’. What do they mean by ‘10mins’? Who would want to get their hair cut done in 10 mins? I was trying to figure this out when I noticed a red, green and yellow indicator outside the shop. It reminded me of the CNC machines which you see on the shop floor. Wait…they were exactly the same status indicator lights directly taken of a CNC machine!

I needed a haircut and this was my first after moving to Singapore. I didn’t mind trying this one out just for the heck of it, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t be going again. I inserted my 10 dollaa note (Singlish for dollar) into the slot and got my coupon and sat on the chair. I had a few minutes before my turn. I observed the way the trained hairdresser worked on her customer’s head. She did the initial rough cutting with an electric trimmer and then moved on to a scissor for the finishing. Two sets of vacuum cleaners were used for the cleaning…one for the floor and the other for the customer. The best part I liked was the absence of the hair pricking which was common after a haircut. And yes she did the job in a something close to 10 minutes…probably 12…pretty commendable.

On the way back home, I got thinking on what I was missing at this so called QB house (I am guessing that QB stands for Quick Barber). I used to love going to the Barber’s. What was it about the barber’s place which made me go there so frequently? What was there in that 25 minutes which left you with low hair and high spirits?

I usually prefer the normal barbers who are a part and parcel of every street or locality. I just don’t feel like going to those saloons or high end beauty parlors which supposedly give your hair an all-round treatment. No, no….Its not the financial aspect which I am talking about where you leave a parlor with a lighter head and an even lighter pocket. Its something else which is there in the local barber’s place which makes it a different experience altogether.

One of the earliest barbers I remember is the one who was in the village I used to live in during my school days. He didn’t have much of competition as I guess there were only 2 barbers in the whole area and I remember this guy used to charge something like three Rupees way back in 1990. In those days, the barber shop used to be one of the hangout places for the village folk; the local library and the Nair’s tea shop being the other major hangouts. All news ranging from village gossip to international issues were debated with fervor.

But that was not all, the village barber was the one who usually had one of the best radio sets in town and it was wonderful to listen to it while having our hair cut. Its not that we didn’t have a radio at home, its just that the combo of hair cutting and FM was awesome. I really think that the popularity of FM in those days could be attributed to the barbers to a good extent. Anyway who listens to radio for the sake of listening alone? It’s more of a supplementary activity rather than the only activity.

One of the best parts I remember about the haircut was the fag end where he used one of those razors to give a finishing touch. It always used to send a shiver down my spine. This was way before we started shaving and all.

The tradition hasn’t changed much over the years. Other than the extra collection of cosmetics he had lined up on his table and the generous use of the electric trimmer, there wasn’t much change in the local barber.

I remembered one of the first few days I landed up in Chennai. I was living in one of those commercial streets at the north end of the city. I had a hard time locating a barber. I found one who seemed pretty decent and well equipped. Ah, but there was a difference, this guy had a TV Set instead of a radio and he was watching some soap. While cutting my hair, his vision shifted frequently from my head to the TV monitor with more time spent on the latter. Moreover the tension on screen was clearly reflected in the pace he was cutting my hair. I was lucky; he was watching one of those regional soaps and not an action flick or something. Needless to say, that was my first and last visit to that barber and I set out in search of the next guy.

Once I reached IIT, a few friends warned me not to go for our own barber located near Gurunath. But of course, I was determined to give it a shot. This place kind of reminded me of the old village barber shop. And of course the results were pretty good as long as you didn’t have too much of expectations. The music was good and the magazines were there in place and best of all, it still gave you the pleasure of a hair cut.

It wasn’t much different in Pune either, the only issues being the extra few minutes spent in getting the Marathi speaking Barber to understand my specifications which of course weren’t too many – short at the sides and back, medium at the front. Of course this guy sometimes wanted to experiment on my face as well with some cream or treatment which he had recently mastered, which once in a while I obliged to. Then later on when I removed my moustache (story on how that happened comes later…), a few minutes were saved in the trimming process. Anyway the best part about the Pune barbers was their final head massage, which I guess is locally known as ‘champi’ or something which sounds like that. This was awesome, slightly overwhelming in the beginning, but really awesome.

So I miss the FM, the local filmi magazines, the head massage and the loads of time spent waiting. But at the end of it I still get my haircut which is still satisfactory. And by any means if it doesn’t turn out well, I have the next cut to look forward to.

The visit to Cenlib

I went to the central library today, a towering, five storied building in IIT Madras…a very rare occasion. I remember the first time. It definitely was not the first quarter, could have more likely been the second or third quarter. I always had this awe of entering the central library; there was something spooky in it which made me stay away from it as much as possible. It was not the books, in fact I used to love the books, I guess it was the long corridors lined with books and the gloomy lighting and all those nerds devouring at the piles of knowledge which turned me off. Or it could be the utter lack of girls which kept the central library away from my list of daily destinations, but on second thoughts I invariably remember meeting at least one hot girl whenever I go to the library, so guess that’s not the reason.

Typically I roam around the lending section, get some books which I hope to read sometime during the semester and then return them towards the end of the quarter, without going beyond the second or third page, along with a late fine. But I feel it was totally worth it.

Today here I was on the 5th level where they had one of those reference sections. They have a lot of expensive and rare books here which they don’t let you take home. So this was not my typical place. But one of the profs had asked us to do some presentation on some book which was available only here. The librarian didn’t allow us to take it out, not even for photocopying, saying that it cost some 13K or so. I guess these are the types of books which you should take photocopies of, rather than those normal Eastern Economy edition textbooks which are already available at affordable rates.

Whatever it is, the case write-up I was reading was so boring that I felt that I had to do something to keep my self awake. That’s how I landed up penning down or rather punching down these lines.

I just scanned across the reading room on Level 5. Man! This place is huge. There should be atleast 2 of these sized rooms on each floor with so many books….and 5 floors….

Well, my friend seemed to be so engrossed in his book, occasionally jotting down something in his notebook…hmmm good for him. Then there was this stupid looking guy sitting in front of me who kept staring at the wall and then writing some stuff in his notebook. On second thoughts, I guess he wasn’t that stupid after all, he seemed to be reading some high funda book….the name which I couldn’t pronounce correctly…..whatever. One thing I liked about him was the bottle of pepsi he had ready in his hand…in case he was thirsty. Guess he is a regular here. Then there were these nerdy girls at some table. Poor things what are they doing here on a Friday night? Nowhere better to go than the Cenlib???

Coming back to the books and the rules….I wonder whether the security at the library is as tight as they claim to be???…they have RFID tags in each books and scanners at the exit. It beeps whenever someone passes with a book through the library entrance…it would be really difficult to get a book out of this place if you want to. But I guess nothing is impossible ….you can always put the book in your laptop bag, carry another book and when the security beeps, show the one you are carrying. I don’t know whether this will work…..guess the security would not be that dumb.

Then my friend on hearing these thoughts commented….dude, its like what Prof LPS said…He could have been CEO of TCS if he had stayed back, but he chose teaching, because then he could make 65 people CEOs and not just one. Similarly…smuggling out a book….you could benefit from it….but leaving it there itself…..it could benefit hundreds of others. Hmm…guess that’s food for some thought.

back to square one

Its ages since I scrapped or posted in this area. Not that nothing worth mentioning is happening in life (barring all those placements and the usual college stuff), Its just that you need some motivation to write something. It should be either for yourself or prompted by others. The other day, a friend of mine made a few comments....which reminded me that I used to have something called a blog.

Logged in checked it out....wow....it was still working and accessible....especially the password (which most people forget...however hard, crytpic or easy they make it)

Then of course I had to scrap some crap...but what subject to write about without being subjective. I always used to wonder how writers used to write novels....and that too hundreds of pages together. Take Dumas with his 'Count of Monte Cristo'...one of my favs...I saw the movie first and was mighty impressed....but the novel...guess its one of the largest I have read, was filled with plots & subplots and subsubplots and what not. How did this guy envision so much of intricacies and to such a depth...hmm...I guess the right word would be 'awesome'.

One doubt however...do these guys actually have the whole story in mind before putting it down in black and white...or is it that he starts writing something and the rest evolves...I guess both writing styles exist. The more common one would be where you have a brief outline of the whole story...say the skeleton....then you start building from one end....add muscles and flesh...and finally breathe life into it.

4Ps of Marketing Yourself

Marketing is such a beautiful subject that you can apply to almost anything. Most MBA students will be familiar with the 4Ps of marketing a product.

Product: Well, you are the product. The basic assumption here is that the product is good. There is plenty of competition and there is very less apparent difference between the various models available. Of course everyone will be projecting their best when trying to sell themselves. If you feel there is something lacking in the product, do some good market research, upgrade your product according to customer requirements. Get a good education, get a better job with a fatter packet, revamp your wardrobe or just get rid of that outlandish hairstyle.

Price: This is how much someone has to give up to get you. If you play hard to get, well you are expensive. Your price depends on how much she is willing to give up for you. If the girl is in love with someone who is unacceptable to her parents due to social norms or such stupid stuff and she has to sacrifice a lot to be with her loved one, well she IS paying a heavy price. See that you justify your price, if it is on the higher side. Well your price could range from that of a used napkin to well…………..priceless.

Promotion: Well dude, there’s plenty of competition out there. If you have a Pulsar 150, then the other guy has a Pulsar 180, If u have an Engg degree, then the other guy is an MBA…..etc. So in this competitive market you have to stand out. What does she get extra if she chooses you instead of someone else? Even though a BOGOF (Buy one get one free, for the uninitiated) doesn’t really apply here, try to think of something creative which you can do to promote yourself. Start by getting to know your target market, what they want and what they are looking for. It’s not an easy task, even poor Freud went to his grave without being able to answer that one.

Place: Even though it’s your approach which matters here, the location plays a significant role. Keep out of libraries, parking lots and shady places. This should be decided based on your customer’s preferences. Your customers best friend’s advice is invaluable in such situations, so see to it that you keep them happy and are there in their good books.

So, are we ready for some selling?

Beauty

After all what is beauty?
Isn’t it some vague concept we use to evaluate certain abstract thoughts or senses based on our predefined notions of how something is supposed to be. The key to beauty is relativity. When I say something or someone is beautiful, I mean that I have evaluated that something or someone on the standards that I have set for beauty, and I find them to meet or exceed my expectations.

During my childhood, when my parents used to buy some clothes for me, almost everything in the shop seemed to be the same to me. It was really difficult to distinguish what is beautiful and what is not. So when they buy you something and tell you it’s beautiful, you accept it and then that becomes your benchmark for beauty. Now you evaluate every other dress based on your benchmark. This is why I feel that your parents, your friends, your up bringing etc. all contribute substantially to your concepts of beauty.

The same thing happens when you evaluate people also. Beauty becomes highly relative. Of course, if the benchmark for beauty was the same for each and every person, then there should be millions of people who find it extremely difficult to find a suitable pair and everyone would be falling for the same person. However at the end of the day everyone does find a suitable person who fits into his definition of beauty.

Personally I feel that people can be divided into only two categories – beautiful and more beautiful. There is always some beauty in everyone. Period. It need not always be visible.

So is there something called ugliness? Well, it’s a big No. If you find someone ugly, sorry dude, you are in the wrong place. Either change your specs or look for someone else, because the person whom you felt was ugly, could be the loveliest person in the world for someone else.

‘To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.’

The end of my rear end

The other day I went to the Insti hospital to get treated for viral fever. The doctor advised me to take heavy doses of antibiotics and suggested me to take them as injections over a period of 3 days.

So First day…..
I went to the injection room
The nurse asked me to pull down my pants
I obliged without much ado
And she applied the injection on my rear end

Second day……..
Again I went into the injection room
The nurse again asked me to pull down my pants
Again same insertion of needle.

(Ah, coming to think of it, getting an injection is a such a wonderful experience especially the second half where the needle is pulled out. That sudden relief of pain…….it feels like… like..… heaven.)

Third day……
I entered the room. The nurse, her back towards me, was filling the syringe from the phial.
Well, what the heck, anyway same routine, I knew the nurse would ask me to pull down my pants, so why should I wait.
Even before the nurse asked me to, I was ready with my pants down.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh …………..

Why is she screaming at me? Oh oh………..this is a different nurse.

‘What are you doing? Where are your pants?’

I tried to explain in vain…. the treatment….the routine….the 2 previous injections…my rear end…….

But she wouldn’t buy any.

Finally she said, ‘No injection there, show me your arm’

Well, I sheepishly pulled up my pants and showed her my arm where she applied the injection. This time it didn’t feel that great.

And of course I learnt my lesson; never show a nurse your rear end without being asked for it.