The Road To Sarnath

The Buddha looked at the eastern sky, and nodded with the air of someone who didn't disapprove but had seen better. "How strange that sunrise must seem less beautiful than sunset, though man fears the night and seeks days' light?" he said. And then started walking at a frightening pace. Bharata, his disciple, followed him, trying to not pant and say something intelligent in reply. He succeeded partly. His "Hmm, yes!" came out quite smoothly. It was a bright spring morning. They were headed towards Sarnath.

DAY ONE
By and by, they met a gaunt-looking man. The Buddha slowed down and started talking to him. Or rather, he started listening. "This world, sir, is in darkness and Man is as a firefly. We are here but for a fleeting few nights; and it is our calling to throw some light, however feeble, in the surrounding gloom. Yes, the task of man is to be moral, and virtuous, and sacrifice himself for others. How can any moral man be content with his personal comfort, when all around him is suffering and injustice? The man that has a kind heart but does nothing for his fellow man, is a bigger sinner than the bloodiest murderer that ever lived." The Buddha nodded, but said nothing.

That evening, Bharata said to the Buddha in private: "Truly, that man is a saint, master. We are fortunate to have the company of one so virtuous". The Buddha merely said, "He is indeed virtuous, but I would like to rest awhile tomorrow. Let him go ahead." And so the man went ahead the next day, while the Buddha swam in a river all day and climbed up a hill to take in the view.

DAY THREE
They started again on the third morning. By and by, they met a tradesman who meant to purchase a good house in Sarnath. He had married recently. "Master," he said, "You are a noble saint. I can't be as detached as you. My life has no great meaning, but it is all I know." The Buddha smiled and said, "Oh, don't worry about it. It's just one's nature. Anyway, maybe you can explain to me how trade is organized. I have never understood it." And so the man explained the principles of supply and demand, and the planning of economies, and how governments worked. He soon talked about competition and human nature and social progress. "We are all struggling only for our immediate comfort, master; but I believe that this is the way towards universal progress. Man is not by nature rapacious. Once the rich find a basic level of comfort, they'll slowly become more generous. Anyway, only if the rich expand trade, can the poor find employment." The Buddha beamed and said, "I'm glad you think so. I don't understand this Business business, but I hope you're right about the nature of man. Anyway, enough of this. Tell me about your family." And then the man started talking shyly about his young wife, and how she had cried when he had to leave, and how sweetly she sang when the mood took her. His eyes were twinkling. The Buddha smiled with him.

That evening, Bharata said to the Buddha, "I can't understand this man. He thinks only of his own little life and trade. What difference, then, between men and beasts? But perhaps, master, that is the greatest wisdom of all. Perhaps man's highest Duty is to live by natural instinct. And yet, can any man truly find happiness in something that is so petty and personal? It is just as well we have a few more days to go. I want to understand this man." The Buddha smiled indulgently, patted Bharata on his shoulder and said, "Perhaps, my boy, you can understand him more by seeing him less. Aargh! Hear me sounding like a mysterious Sadhu. We will let this man go his own way, if you don't mind. We will take a detour. There is someone else I want you to meet."

DAY FOUR
The next morning, they walked to a nearby village and met an old man. He was one of those old people who make one want to grow old soon. He was still fit and strong, but one could see that he was weakening slowly. The hair and beard were sprinkled with white. The eyes smiled, the mouth did not. He greeted the Buddha warmly. "There you are, my boy. I take it you are wandering around as always." The Buddha, looking suddenly boyish, smiled and said, "Well, you know that monks do not stay anywhere for very long." The old man shook his head, looking grim. "You already know what I think of the matter. But perhaps your young friend here can yet be redeemed."

And then the old man turned to Bharata, and said, "Look, my child, your Master here is like a hummingbird. He wanders a thousand miles every year, and wherever he goes, he brings cheer and joy. But he is not just a beautiful bird. He is a man, and an uncommon one at that. His dharma, and that of every man gifted with a mind, is to strive for perfection. Before you say anything, I know that he told you that all life is equal or some such nonsense. Yes, it is perhaps true that if two living beings were drowning, you should save the one you have the best chance of saving. Actually, I don't agree with that either. But even I were to, it's besides the point. The point is not whether one life is more valuable than the other. The point is that each of these 'equal' lives might have its own unique purpose. And I say that the purpose of the thinking man is Thought itself. Oh, and he told you something about saving the world and showing the way and all that. Nonsense. A man who is not movings towards his own Goal cannot steer others towards theirs."

Having said all this calmly, he turned to the Buddha and said, "So what have you read recently?" The Buddha grinned and shrugged. "Nothing? I'm afraid for you, my boy. In trying to teach them, I'm afraid you'll become them. But anyway, while you're here, let us read something." And for the rest of the day, he sat reading to the Buddha, who listened calmly.

That evening, Bharata said, "Master! I am truly grateful you brought me here. Surely, this life is the Answer? There is much we will learn here." The Buddha 's eyes shone, "I am glad, my boy, that you like it here. But I plan to leave tomorrow for Sarnath. If you want, you can stay here. In fact, I'd rather like it if you did." Bharata said, his voice choking, "How could you think I'll leave you? I will come, of course, wherever you go. But tell me, O Master, what am I to make of the world when so many paths that seem right?"

"My child, I am not sure I know the answer to that. All I know is that my path goes to Sarnath."

So saying, the Buddha went into a deep dreamless sleep.

An Ode To Ourselves, And An Appeal To Allah

For a monk, Bhikku, lust and hatred are a strict no-no. But disgust, now that's another matter altogether.

-- The Diary, Date Unknown.

Call Him Allah, or call him Khuda; call Him Rahman or call Him Rahim. Call Him what you will, gentle reader, but observe that God is a sharp cove. He protects, but does not pamper. He is kind, but not mushy. In short, the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

To Chinese, Koreans and such-like cartoon characters, He giveth eternal youth; but from them, He taketh away all desire for sex. After all, as the old song goes,

Sook Yung, and Cho Chong, and Ming Lee, they
Look Young, and Live Long, but Singly!

To white men, God giveth heap-big-heap desire for sex; but from them He taketh away mojo and renders them homo.
To black men, He giveth libido and mojo; but before they can do anything, He taketh them away and puts them in jail.
To you, gentle reader, God giveth our delightful blog to read; but from you, He taketh away the taste to appreciate it.
To Us, He giveth the looks of Adonis, the valour of Achilles, the wit of Cato and the wisdom of Plato; but from Us, alas, He taketh away all intelligent readership.

There was once a time when this blog was read by many people, including some gumtalaka she-ple. But now, alas, that time is past. Today, we are reader-less. Noone comments on our posts.

Or so we wish.

In truth, some private comments on the last post were sent to us. As it turns out, this blog still does have its readers. Alas, they are the Aged and the Infirm, the Fossilized and the Mummified, the Hideous and the Grumpy. Their opinion is like our aunts' advice. We do not ask for it, but we get it anyway. Our writings, these readers declare, aren't good enough for them anymore. Our profile, they say, stinks. Our new layout looks so ugly, it makes us look pretty by comparison. Our blog, in short, needs a quick and decent burial.

These readers are the sort of blokes who buy second hand jattis, and have no control over their moocha. We could go on about their deviant sexual tendencies, but they would probably take it as a compliment anyway. Nay, we will not bad-mouth them, ungrateful sons-of-a-what-not that they are. The fault, gentle Reader, lies not in our underlings, but in our stars. We were born to suffer thusly. We do not wish to moan, but we are a most unlucky bastard. We were born in the babeless nation of South India, and all through our life, we have endured grave misfortunes. Indeed, nothing has gone our way. Ours is a tragedy fit for Homer. But we are a Real Man, and we can't quite get ourselves to trust a European man who calls himself Homer. At any rate, Homer, we're told, is dead.

Self-help, once again, is our only recourse.

We present here an Ode to Ourselves. Please read it. And comment only if you do not have facial hair. Thank you.

An Ode To Ourselves
(For the illiterate, and for the Meter-Nazi tailor types, audio link here)

BIRTH
It was a loverly morn,
Mama was on the john.
He held some roasted corn,
And a secret book of porn.

Mami she cried, "It's born!"
Her voice was like a horn.
Mama's ear was torn,
And so he heard, "It's porn!"

The foul mistaken sound!
He thought he had been found.
Stunned, he swallowed the corn,
And soon, alas, was gone!

Ere they broke the lock,
Mama had died of shock.
That's how we came to Earth,
Our birth it caused no mirth.

CHILDHOOD
But-oh, we won't be bitter,
Our life it did get better.
For soon we were a boy,
A cuddly mass of joy.

The ladies that beheld us,
So tenderly they held us.
A horde of hot young misses,
On us they planted kisses.

We were so appealing,
That they would start a-squealing
"Oh, what a little beauty,
I swear he is a cutie."

Alas we were a hermit,
Their kisses we didn't permit.
For though we were a nudist,
We also were a prudist.

As they kissed and petted,
Their skirts we slyly wetted,
On many a sultry missie,
We confess we got pissy.

YOUTH
The times they soon mended,
Our trials were then ended.
We roamed around in jatties,
Untroubled by kutties.

But when we started shaving,
We felt in us a craving,
And soon we were a-missing,
The hugging and the kissing.

It didn't make us queasy,
We thought the matter easy.
The thought of our pedigree,
It made us sure they'd agree,

To chicks we proposed smartly,
Alas, they opposed tartly.
Indeed, they seemed revolted.
Our confidence was jolted.

When WE had been a-suckling,
We were a cute duckling,
But now we weren't lucky,
We'd grown to be a ducky.

Our taste had refined vastly,
The looks had grown ghastly.
The truth alas was simple,
Our face was like a pimple.

TODAY
A-turning on the charm,
We knew would do us harm,
We sought to win their hearts,
By turning on the Arts.

Since babes no longer lusted,
In wit and grace we trusted.
Our looks didn't get us snogging,
But hope there was in blogging.

Our hopes they were cemented,
When many a fan commented.
Our fans we then befriended,
And soon our hopes they ended.

Our fans we learned are balled,
And most of them are bald.
We'd told our great adventures,
To fossils wearing dentures.

O Gods, Ye must be crazy,
Or deaf and dumb and lazy.
We asked for reading lasses,
Ye gave us reading glasses.

Allah, Ram and Jesus,
If you wish to please us,
Send us a sexy reader,
We really do need 'er.

A Manager's Diary

Yes, Bhikku, you heard me right. That man asked me to describe Nirvana, and I said it is pink, soft and smells like cardamom. He is a manager. Anything more detailed than that will confuse him.

-- The Diary, Full Moon Day, April 515 BC

Mon, Jan 23 Close shave today. Bill called me in. I thought he was going to fire me, but he said I've been promoted to manager. I hope I didn't look too relieved. But this is great. Now I can really make a difference. I told him I have a vision for the group. I do. I'll show them. Note to self: be hands-on, but dont' micromanage.

Wed, Jan 25 Spoke to Charlie Wong today. I think he resented me being promoted over him. I assured him he he has a key role to play. That's the secret of good management. Always shoot straight and build good relationships. [Charlie Wong's diary for Wed, Jan 25: Sam is now very oily. He probably thinks I'm jealous. Jealous of him? Yeah, maybe I should be. My life would be uncomplicated too, if only I were an idiot like him. Can't believe he is manager now. It is all racism, of course. There's a glass ceiling for Asians.]

Tue, Late Feb. No time to update this diary anymore. Am getting stressed out. Too much to do. Chatted with Bill. He said I am doing just fine. Said Software is doing great under me. Poor chap, he must be stressed too. I manage Analog, not Software.

Thu, mid-April Bill called me in. Said we are losing customers. Wanted me to focus more on the job. I'm getting worried.

Third weekend of April The wife made me go to her Asian faith-healer. Weird fellow. He was looking at my horoscope. I told him I'd become manager, but things are going bad. He threw away the horoscope. Sat down and talked to me. Said my problem was that I was doing too much. Asked me to relax. Gave me some stress-fighting exercise. If I get stressed out, I should face north, kneel down, lift up my left palm and punch it hard thrice with the right fist, shouting "I can do it. I can do it. I can do it". Said I should call more meetings, and do less work by myself. A manager is like a general, he says. Generals don't fight. Foot soldiers do. Makes sense. I'll follow his advice.

Wednesday, 25th April Had five meetings today. Assigned lots of action items. I think we are making progress.

Thursday, 26th April This is great. I feel like a general now. The left palm hurts a little, though.

Monday, 1st May I have learned to devolve, so that I can concentrate on man-management and customer interaction. Asked Charlie to lead the design team. He'll lead Srinivas, Srinivasa and Srinivasan. Man, Indian names are very similar. But they say they are all from different parts of India, and speak different dialects. Yeah, no kidding! Charlie says every Chinese woman can identify her husband in a crowd. It's amazing, because all Chinese people look alike. I am understanding foreign cultures. Should put that in my resume, when I come up for promotion.

Tuesday, 1st May I am in Paris. Customer rep from X__ is here, too. He works in Boston. Says he has travelled here for the meeting. I told him I work in New York, so maybe we can meet in Boston itself. He says their conference center is in Paris, so it is better to meet there. I don't mind. Paris is nice, and I'm getting airline miles. But anyway, it seems a waste of company money.

Thursday, 3rd May Spoke to Bill about going to Boston instead of Paris. Thought he'd be impressed. He frowned and said he'll think about it.

Monday, 8th May Bill said he would have asked me to take over Digital too, except that it will involve travelling and I seem so reluctant to travel. I assured him that I have no problems travelling. Am going to Paris again Thursday.

Wed, 10th May
10 am Firefighting today. Srinivas said he also he wants to be a team lead. I made him Architecture Lead. Charlie leads design, so it should be OK.
2 pm Srinivasan complained too. Had to pacify him somehow. Made him Interface Lead.
5 pm Srinivasa is System Optimization Lead. I'm getting good at this.

Mon, 15th May, 11am Got a design win from the Boston company. This is great news. Charlie says our design is best in class. I haven't had a chance to go over the design document. Should do it soon. Maybe even ask for a demo. But now it's time to celebrate.

Wed, 17th May, 9 am I'm beginning to enjoy the job. It's good to be an individual contributor, but as manager, you can pursue your vision. It's a fine art. You need to get the best out of people without stressing them out too much. You need to understand the big picture, but also know the details. That's where my technical background helps. I understand the details. Anyway, travelling to Australia next week. X__ has moved their conference center there. This should be a good meeting. We need to iron out all the details. I'll get the exact system specs. Details. That's the key.

Fri, 26rd May, 9 am Meeting in Australia went great. We laid a good foundation and came up with a framework for further relation-building. I'm putting in place an infrastructure to monitor the information flow. All meeting minutes will be put in cross-referenced spreadsheets and uploaded to the company internal website, with password access for the customer. I should ask Linda to work on it.

Fri, 26rd May, 11 am Linda says the minutes have already been uploaded to the company website. The previous manager had the same idea. I never thought he was this smart. (Note to self: Linda is efficient, but she does not have the right vibes. I should get a new secretary. I think a redhead would have a more business-oriented, customer-friendly professional approach.)

Tue or Wed, 1th June,
9am Arranged a visit next week by the interface team in X___ to see our demo.
10am Big problem!! Charlie says demo won't be ready by next week. Said architecture isn't mature. Need to talk to Srinivas (or is it Srinivasa)
10:30 am Spoke to Srinivasa. He says the design isnt' complete. Asked Charlie for the design document.
11 am Charlie says the design isn't over, because he is waiting for interface specs from Srinivasan.
11:30 am Srinivasan says interface spec isn't complete. Didn't know whether power or area was important. Optimization requirements aren't in yet.
2 pm Optimization req. not set. S~ says he didn't get first-pass design document, so there was nothing to optimize.
3 pm Which way is north?
4 pm My palm hurts
5 pm Had some emergency meetings. We are making progress. Gave action items to everyone.
6 pm I'm proud of myself. Three months back, I'd have panicked. Now I'm cool.
11 pm Just realized something. If we didn't have the design, how did we get a design win from X__? Those guys are incompetent idiots. That's the problem with high-level management. Details. That's the key.

Tue, 7th June
Tomorrow is the big day. DEMO

Wed, 8th June
3 pm Demo has been a big success so far. We went to a Chinese place for lunch. My choice. The team from X__ just loved it. They are all Chinese. Maybe some are Korean. Who knows? They are meeting the group now.
5 pm They seem impressed with the group. The manager says he hopes to build a good working relationship based on interpersonal interactions. Asked us to come over to their conference center in Morocco for a brainstorming session next month.
5:30 pm They hadn't gone to the lab to see the demo. I suggested we do it. They seemed to like the idea.
6:00 pm The guys had left early. Noone to show the demo. I showed them some of Charlie's slides. They seemed happy.

Closer to Friday than Monday, Late June
Bill called me to the room. Said he was very impressed. X__ had said I was very hands on. He said I'll take over his job starting next month. I am now the VP of the entire Design Center. This is great. I was expecting it, though. Bill is retiring.

Monday, I think. July?
9 am Took over as VP. Should find someone to take my old job. I think Srinivas will be a good choice. I'll call him now.
5 pm Oops, I promoted Srinivasa instead of Srinivas. Man, how do I correct this one?
6 pm Naah! Figured it's OK. They are both idiots anyway. I'll have to do everything myself, as always.


L~T~, my boy, welcome to Corporate America.