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Archive for the ‘Arnab Ray’ Category

May I Hebb Your Attention Pliss!May I Hebb Your Attention Pliss! by Arnab Ray
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

A book for the Indian children of the 60s and 70s. The author rambles on about different topics and most of the children born during this period will be able to relate to what the author has to say.
From politics to to sex to Bollywood.
In a chapter on moral policing by certain groups in the various cities of India the author gives the compilation of euphemistic words in the modern world.
Some of these are as follows:
Barber: Hairdresser
Tailor: Fashion Designer
Bank Robber: Investment Banker
Pickpocket: Economic Offender
Mujra: Item Number
Incorrigible gossip: Blogger
Spousal Abuse: S & M
Terrorist: Misguided youth
Wife/Husband: Partner
Casting couch: Talent show
and the best
Code Coolie: Software Engineer

About setting up one’s own B-School
In one of the chapters he sarcastically about how anyone can setup their own B-School. In one place he asks a pertinent question about the existing MBA awarding institutes: “Should we measure these institutes measure by the package of its graduates? Or should we be asking instead: Have the graduates of these prestigious institutes changed the world? Well have they? The answer is a resounding ‘no’. While a few may have brought in a revolution, or half, most of them have done little except prepare reports, made presentations, attend meetings, shout at subordinates and pocket a fat bonus. Most MBA graduates will tend to disagree with the above statement and many of these institutes would be glad to continue to be judged by the salaries their graduates get as they get out of their institutes than what happens to them after 5 – 10 years or what meaningful changes they bring about in the world.
He also observes that the students are not taught to dream. So that when they graduate they know how to valuate complex derivatives but know absolutely nothing about imagining and dreaming. He then goes on to say how he will market his institute as being an institute whose USP will be to teach the students to Dream.
He says how having management “Gurus” to speak for his institute will help, but he goes on to say that if a rival institute pays more then the “Guru” will change parties and start speaking eloquent about the rival. As an alternate he suggests that the owner herself should create an image of a “Management Guru”. How? To quote the author himself “The most important criterion for a management guru is that all his statements have to sound very deep and be delightfully vague. Deep and vague statements have an instinctive aura of profoundness about them that instantaneously impresses.
This is what I call the ‘Emperor’s new clothes’ syndrome. This derives it name from the famous fairy tale where even though the citizens see that the emperor is naked they applaud his clothes because they have been told the clothes are such that only the wise can be see them. This is no doubt a very powerful socio-psychological instrument which any management guru worth his name has to take advantage of. The entire avant-garde art industry owes its profits to it. If peple did not go ‘waah waah’ over a blank canvas with a dab of red paint on it or over a soiled toilet seat in an exhibition just because they have been told that this is high art, where would modern artists be?”

One whole chapter is about the tribulations that he went through during the marriage ceremony. In this chapter he states “My first realization was that an Indian marriage ceremony is intentionally kept lengthy and torturous so that no one in their right mind would ever want to get married twice. That is the problem with the western marriages: they are too short and painless.”

One chapter is dedicated to how Bollywood has changed over the years. Some his observations which I enjoyed. “Kareena Kapoor’s name in Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham is Pooja but being oh so la la modern she prefers people call her “Poo”, trying to be with it but perhaps unware that poo typically means excreta ejected through the anal orfice.
In Love Story 2050, the hero tells the heroine hep-ly and ultra coolly. “Tumhari life hai na, its like hotdog without a sausage”, the sexual imagery being unintentionally Freudian”. I confess. I just do not get the new internationalized wannabe Bollywood, a world of burgers, fries, Coke, tank-tops and faux accented American English. Just like I do not get SMS English and why people spell come as cum and then use cum in sentences like ‘Why don’t you and our misses cum together?’.
Maybe I am too old-fashioned. Maybe I am too uncool. Maybe I yearn for those days in which tickets could be bought for Rs. 20, when the pickpockets would jostle you at the entrance and not clear your pocket legally at the soda-popcorn stand.”

Definitely a good read for the Indians born and brought up India during the same era as the author.

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