EEEKS!

It's funny what Chennai heat and customer care executives can do to one's mental state. While all this while I have had bouts of insanity dealing with the servicing team of my erstwhile refrigerator and mobile phone, a friend elevated herself to the next level. She wrote a letter to her boyfriend amidst the frustration of several rounds of futile interactions with the customer care team of a leading telecom company. I am reproducing the content of the letter here. Let this be the benchmark of frustration and the subsequent vent-out of the most effective kind.

TO: J

Subject: Airtel.Is not my friend.

Dear J,

After incessant follow up, submitting documents, running around in the Chennai heat to go to the nearest Airtel showroom, which happens to be at the annoying distance of ‘too far to walk to in this heat, too close for an auto to let go of the chance to be an total chor’, Airtel finally pretends they have received no documents from me and have disconnected my number altogether.

Why baby. Why would they do this.

I am now beyond rage, which is normal when you don’t have a face to target it at. I do however pity the customer care executive who will come face to face with me this evening at the Airtel showroom. He has no idea I cry when I’m angry.

Should be fun.

In recent service awards based on research by Frost and Sullivan, Airtel was declared the best service provider in India. Imagine that. In the whole country baby.

If ever there was a good reason to immigrate..

..And to think, I almost applied to Frost and Sullivan when they were recruiting on campus. Clearly, they are completely retarded and have no idea how to interpret data.

In fact, they might just be inefficient enough to find a job at Airtel.

I will now log off. I will think positive. I will go to Airtel. I will be calm and I will find a good customer care executive who will help me sort this out in no time and my number will be up and running and I shall have no further problems with Airtel for the duration of my time here…

.. and then little fairies will find me and I shall fly with them into the night and take over the world.

Much love.

Yours,

S.

P.S I have taken S's permission to put this up. She and I both believe that this will serve as a pathbreaking example on How to handle EIICS syndrome( Extreme Insanity due to Issues of Customer Service.Pronounced: Eeeeks!)

Regards,

The Blah man

Missing

MISSING

Two black shoes with 2 grey socks stuffed in them. Last seen in my drawing room on the evening of Friday, May 23,2009. The right shoe is called Jugnu and has a small scar on its right side and the left one is known as Jhingur and has an absolutely clear spotless skin. Both look a good pair together and it is highly likely that they would be found together.

The shoes and the socks were found missing today morning and I have a suspicion that some really visiually/mentally challenged person ran away with them because Jugnu and Jinghur were in the company of other shoes who were far better placed in life like - A white Nike, A black Adidas and some floaters and slippers from reputed brand families. The sudden departure of both of them has left me distraught and utterly embarrased for having to wear sports shoes over formal trousers to office today.

If anybody comes across Jugnu and Jinghur or gets any information on their whereabouts, please contact your nearest police station immediately. I have already registered an FIR to this effect .

Suspects: The Maid, The neighbour (an old man who had been casting an evil eye on Jugnu), One of the Zoozoos from the Vodafone campaign

Sad and shaken,

The Blah Man

P.S: Additional info - The socks were called Sockrates and Sockvinder

How I Got My House: Episode 2 - The Landlord

Luke and Lea are quiet. After reassuring myself that they had stabilized, I decide that it is safe to put the gun away and start with my story. Just to keep things so, I call R2D2, the family droid and ask him to aim at the kids while I narrate the story with all my histrionics. And so I begin..

Me: It was the first day of our house search - The first Sunday after the day our Landlord- let's call him Doggy,told us that he had decided to throw us out because he did not want bachelors as his tenants anymore. Doggy was the quintessential landlord - about 5 and a half feet tall, the darkest shade of ebony,had a protruding belly, moved around with two mobile phones in his hands and two bluetooth ear peices - one in each of his ears . We had several reasons to believe that he was a blood sucking vampire and hence we always kept garlic by the door to keep him away. Doggy had a terrible anger management problem and to top it all , he was a lawyer. It was common knowledge that Doggy had stopped going to the court several years ago and had taken up blood sucking as a full time job. He owned over 40 appartments in the city which he had rented out to his victims. He also owned 2 hatchbacks, 1 SUV, 1 motorbike and 1 scooter. No points for guessing that he moved around on the scooter. I still remember the first day we had gone to meet him to talk about renting the appartment. Doggy had a special dedicated room for blood sucking. If you were a tenant , you had to be in that room every first day of the month to pay the rent, which he would accept as if he had accepted the price for letting you stay alive for another month. So the first day as we entered the room, we noticed this other guy sitting with an expression that reminded me of a squashed tomato. The squashed tomoto was trying his best to argue his case with Doggy and it appeared to be a money issue. Doggy was however not interested since he had two fresh - still full of life young men waiting for him to suck their blood. We should've seen it coming that day, but we chose to believe that the squashed tomato had probably goofed up really bad to deserve that treatment. It was the second big mistake we had comitted with regards to Chennai .The first ofcourse was coming to Chennai.

There after every month , for 10 months we dutifully went to Doggy's blood sucking room on the first day of the month to pay our rent for the house. Doggy on the other hand never showed up at our place to bother us which we believe was due to the garlic. Never, unitil the day he announced that he was looking for fresh blood and we should start packing our bags.

Lea: So, what did you you do? Did you find another house? Was it as good as the previous one?

Clearly, Lea has found herself completely engrossed in my narration and can not wait to get to the end. But I am no ordinary reconteur. So I ask her to be patient.

Me: Hang on..hang on...this isn't getting over fast. Finding a house is no easy job! One has to take care of several things. Why dont we grab a cup of coffee... this will take time..

To be continued..

How I Got My House: Episode 1

The year is 2050. I am sitting on a chair and my children are seated in front of me on a couch.They are called Luke and Lea ( I have an uncanny feeling that some hollywood director might just like these names and name his movie's protagonists after them. Also, I feel that the movie might have something to do with space age et al.) Both Luke and Lea are into their teens and have plans with friends, but I, have forced them to sit and listen to a gripping tale of "How I got my house"
Me: So kids, today I will tell you an interesting story of how I got my house.
LU: Aw C'mon ! I've got to go and catch a movie today with Lonku! He's always made to watch The Dark Knight with Uncle Manku and gets an off only on Saturdays when Uncle Manku is busy shooting kids in the neighbourhood..
LE: And I have a lot of geekwork to catch up on with Parthibha, she's managed to get hold of Uncle Partha's Geek gadgets ! He usually hides them under his pillow and we seldom get such opportunities!
Me: I know , I know.. but I've got to tell you this story and you both bloody listen...
I point guns at the kids' heads and they sit back tight to enjoy the tale.

To be continued.......

House That!

In the month of February this year, Murphy struck more than once. First our Refrigerator conked off and then our landlord asked us to vacate the house. Though both these incidents appear to be very innocuous, they have both gone on to become epic tales which I shall narrate to my grand children some day to establish myself a hero in front of them. I will write more on both these issues on some lazy Sunday afternoon, but for now, here's a classified ad that you might come across if you were looking for a rented accomodation in Chennai:

The picture was clicked and shared by a colleague, and apparantly Mr. Champak is a popular broker who is known for his innovative copywriting. The grapewine is that several ad agencies have tried to rope him in but Mr. Champak prefers to operate solo.

I have a house now but I am sure that if I had come across Mr. Champak's ad before I would've taken a house through his services only.. after all, not everyone can offer you houses of Milk and Jaggery!
Sincerely,

The Blah Man

SHIT!

Almost one year into Chennai, I am still amazed by the sheer volume of content Chennai land can provide me to write about. Here’s the latest:

TATTI. No,I am not expressing any disgust here. I am actually spelling out the acronym for TAMILNADU ADVANCED TECHNICAL TRAINING INSTITUTE; an engineering college in Chennai.

If you were to analyze the implications of being associated with the institute, you could spend an entire day discovering the countless repercussions of the association. I have put down a few below:

1. To start with, you would be called a TATTIan
2. If your uncle asked you – “Beta, what are you doing these days?” your reply would probably be - “ I am currently in my first year at TATTI”
3. If you had to put in your ambitions , you would start by writing, “After 4 years in TATTI, I intend to join a big software company”
4. You could get the “Most outstanding performance in TATTI” award
5. If you were a topper through out, your certificate of merit would say – “ Mr. Chintu topped TATTI consecutively for four years”
6. You would refer to your friends as –“ My friends from TATTI”
7. After graduating, you would fondly remember your TATTI days
8. If you were to come across an old friend from college years later, you would introduce him to your family by saying - “ Pooja and I go back all the way to TATTI, back then, she was known as Poo”
9. You would - over a period of your four years of association- say “I love TATTI” several times. Alternatively, you could also be saying “I HATE TATTI” but then who doesn’t!
10. It wouldn’t seem weird if someone asked you -“Kall TATTI Jaega?” (“Will you go to TATTI tomorrow?”)
11. Also God forbid if you were to miss college for 7 days, you would tell your friends – “ Its been 7 days since I went to TATTI”
12. You would be leave writing leave applications for not going to TATTI when you are sick or travelling home

There are several possibilities, and I leave it to the readers to add on to this. Any more of this from me and I would be prosecuted for bull-shitting

For all the non-believers, here’s the link to TATTI’s website: www.tatti.ifline.com

Sincerely,
The Blah Man

Adapting to Chennai-Land

In an attempt to completely paint myself in the colors of Chennai, I have been doing a lot of frivolous things of late. A list of five such things I did during the last week follows:

1. I spat on at least 18 people while talking to them. This averages out to about 2.6 people every day which I think is good progress considering I spat at only 7 people during the week before – This translates into a growth of 160%!

2. I haggled with Auto walas for absolutely frivolous reasons. For example, I asked the Auto walas to charge one rupee less in fare when the prices of milk went up by one rupee citing an increase in my expenses without a commensurate increase in my salary as the reason

3. I moved around with a bovine expression on face. I have a feeling that this conceals the intellectual look I have and makes me look as one of them

4. I resolved to wear a lungi to bed..Soon!

5. I watched a Tamil blockbuster


Of the five things listed above, the most painful experience was sitting through the 3 ½ hour long Tamil blockbuster. The movie has Tamil super star Kamala Hassan playing 10 roles and has turned me into a Kamala Hassan devotee (I am planning to construct a chain of Kamala Temples across the country). For the benefit of the readers let me mention the best thing about the movie. One of Mr. Hassan’s avatars is a Sardar who is a famous pop singer. The brilliance of the script lies in the attention paid to detail with our Sardar pop icon singing Tamil songs. To add to this, the script also offers a sneak preview of cutting edge technology in the field of medical science when after being diagnosed with terminal throat cancer, our star singer recovers completely when he is shot in the throat by a bullet. The logic of course is that as the bullet travelled through his throat , it took the cancer along. Extremely believable.

I have now decided to watch a Tamil movie every month. This would help me maintain a level of insanity and keep my readers happy with more of my trade mark badinage on offer.

For those wondering why I decided to watch the movie in the first place, the reason is free popcorn and Coke that was offered to all the employees of my organization for sitting through the movie.

Sincerely,

The Blah Man

Back to Chennai

The Bombay tales are over and I am back in Chennai. Just as I was beginning to feel that I've seen it all, I came across this unique sight in one of the most frequented washrooms in the whole of Chennai.

The washroom in discussion exists in the oldest and largest shopping mall of Chennai - Spencer Plaza. The place is always full of people and quite a place to hangout if you want to check out the local crowd.

Believe it or not, but as you enter the Gents washroom, the wall opposite to the entrance greets you with the sign - "LEG WASH"

My reaction - "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Unbelievable stuff! I clicked a picture even as every other person performing his usual act in the loo was scandalized and tried covering whatever they felt was at the risk of exposure.

Please excuse the quality of the picture as I couldn't get the focus right to avoid a yet another story titled -" Man beaten up for taking pictures in the loo"

And before anybody accuses me of getting Chennai and it's people a bad name, I would like to wash my legs of this affair.

Sincerely ,
The Blah Man

The Spelling Techniques of Chennai - Part II

With my stay at Chennai hitting the 2 months' mark, I have found myself wiser, smarter and better prepared for the city and its people. The latest addition to my vast and ever-expanding ocean of knowledge is in the area of language (again).
In my last post on language I had written about the strong affinity that people fo Chennai have for the letter 'H'. I was convinced that 'H' was the king of letters untill I discovered that even 'H' hasn't been spared the persecution.

The Prosecution of H - Justice Delayed, Not Denied
Every word - common noun, proper noun adjectives, adverbs etc. that rightfully has an 'H' somewhere within it will have its 'H' pronounced as 'GH' .
E.g. Mahindra becomes MaGHindra, Ahmed become AGHmed etc.
This results in a sound which gives an impression that the person is launching a massive load of his ususal conversational spit. The interesting bit is that while 'H' was busy getting appended to every other letter, it did not see its neighbor closing on it from behind.
Retribution at last.

The BlaGH Man

P.S: I can imagine the other letters hailing justice and having the last laugh - GHa GHa GHa...

The Smart Ass Gets a Kick

Ass; Everybody has one. I have one too, only that I thought mine was a real smart one. Having stated that, I must also confess that my perception changed yesterday.

I am currently in the process of furnishing my new home. I woke up yesterday a bit early and after doing the usual morning business sat down with the to do list that I had meticulously prepared the day before. I have this habit of letting out a little chuckle as a token of appreciation for my systematic and efficient way of doing things and I knew my to do list here deserved at least half of it. So I let it out as I read through the list:

1. Move the luggage from the guest house to the new house
2. Receive the delivery of the new A/Cs
3. Get the A/Cs installed
4. Get a Mattress and a small Cupboard
5. Get a T.V, Refrigerator and a DTH connection
6. Celebrate the successful moving in with a nice dinner and enjoy

It all looked pretty simple. After all , I had planned everything. A light commercial vehicle had been booked the previous day to carry the luggage, the A/C guys had been provided with the address and the time for the delivery, the installation guys had also been kept in the loop and ofcourse, purchasing a mattress and the white goods was going to be a cakewalk.

The guys who were to come to pick up my luggage didn’t turn up on time. I was starting to get worried when my phone screamed out for my attention. I composed myself and took the call -

Me: Hullo?
The voice on the other end (TVOOE): A/C Delivery sir!
Me: Oh yeah.. Sure. Please deliver it at Flat#5, residential unit, opposite Konika, M.G Road, Shastri Nagar, Adyar. And could you tell me how long are you going to take? 'Cause you see, I am not there right now so it's going to take me about half an hour to reach. In case you reach before me , please wait outside and I'll be there to take the delivery. Is that O.K?

There was absolute silence on the other end so I Hulloed a few times to check if the line was still active.

TVOOE: Sir! #$!!!*&^++)(^^& A/C ^%##$!%%$!!!! Adyar #*^%$$%^ Delivery Sir!

All the special characters written above and all that are to follow denote TAMIL words

Me: No Tamil ! Tamil Illai! English speaking?
TVOEE: English sir!
Me: Yes English Yes!
TVOEE: #$!!!*&^++)(^^& A/C ^%##$!%%$!!!! Adyar #*^%$$%^ Delivery Sir!

It was the same code that I couldn’t decipher; I thought maybe he didn’t understand the address so I repeated the same to him.

Me: Shastri Nagar!
TVOEE: SHASTRHRI NAGARAA !!!
Me: Konika!
TVOEE: KHONIKHAAA !!!

I was beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel.

Me: Opposite!
TVOEE: OPPOSITE!!!
TVOEE: #$!!!*&^++) (^^& A/C ^%##$! %%$!!!! Adyar #*^%$$%^ Delivery Sir!

The same code! I knew this wasn’t going to work so I rushed out of the house.
As I ran outside, I looked for any person with a friendly expression on his countenance. After about 2 minutes of panic I saw him. He had big black eyes and pearl white teeth which were showing through his benevolent smile. He was surrounded by three ladies who seemed to be in an intense discussion with him; all of them at the same time which made them sound like Emenem, Usher and Puff Daddy all trying to rap together. Tall, very dark and handsome – The friendly neighborhood Sabziwala

Me: Hullo, English speaking?
T.F.N.Sabziwala: English Yes!

I sighed in relief.

Me: This man on phone, he not knowing English, I not knowing Tamil. Could you talk and help?

I crossed my fingers and my toes.

T.F.N.Sabziwala: Oh yes! Give phone.

What followed was a session of absolute gibberish to me. I tried guessing what was transpiring between the two from the expressions and tone of the Sabziwala. Finally I was told that the A/C delivery guy had reached there and was waiting for me.
I rushed back and asked a colleague who was to share the new house with me to get to the address to take the delivery while I’d wait for the luggage movers to drop in.

Later in the day, after the luggage had been moved and the A/Cs had been delivered, my colleague and I faced an even bigger challenge of handling the A/C installation guy who also just like his delivery counterpart had no idea about English. I gave up and let him do whatever he wanted. He knocked down the windows, cut the wood, and shoved the A/Cs into the walls. While he was at it, there were several instances when he asked us to choose between options. But his renditions were too complex for me to understand. I simply resorted to a simple O.K to his every query and hoped that the end result didn’t have the A/Cs cooling the other side of the walls.

It was late evening by the time the A/Cs were installed. I calculated that there was only enough time to get a cupboard so I went straight to a market which had a series of furniture shops.

I think the people here love to let their emotions flow over trifles. After trying about 3-4 shops when I couldn’t get a cupboard, I decided to ask for a Made to order cupboard. The small discussion that I had with one of the store owners is worth a mention.

Me: Can you make a cupboard on order?
Furniture Man (FM): Yes Yes!! We make on Orderr!
Me: O.K, so here are the dimensions…

I gave him the specifications which he jotted down with his tongue sticking out of the left of his mouth as if he was being strangled.

FM: O.K Sir! It Costing you 4,800 ruphees!
Me: Hmmm.. you see that is expensive , I am looking for a very basic one, can you make a cheap one?

I had never thought that asking a furniture guy to make a cheap cupboard could offend him. He looked at me with blood shot eyes and spat a litre of what I call the conversational spit as he replied.

FM: Cheap cupboard not PHossible ! QHuality not comPHromise!! 4800 BHest PHrice!! Cheap not GHetting anywhere in Chennai! Not PHossible!

I wiped my face, apologized and left.

Back at the guest house , I decided to call it a day and sat down to make the to do list for the next day. There was a small addition to the title though.
It read: To do (if possible.)

Regards,
The Blah Man

The Spelling Techniques of Chennai

I've recently moved to Chennai where I'd be taking up a new job. For the unitiated , Chennai is the southern most metropolitan of India. Everyone who gets to know of my current abode greets me with a "Tch tch.. I am so sorry for you" expression /tone.

I have no idea why they do so. In fact I dont even want to know.

One of the first things I noticed about this place is the way people spell here. Every proper noun with a "t" has to be spelt so as to make one throw the maximum spit out of one's mouth when pronounced- A deadly weapon to keep people from asking your name if you carry a "t" in yours.

E.g. Savita is spelled as S-A-V-I-T-H-A ,Gita is spelled as G-I-T-H-A and so on.

Although it is predominant in proper nouns, this technique of spelling/pronouncing is also efficiently utlized in other types of words or sentences. E.g. Common nouns : K-U-T-H-E! or B-A-T-H-A-M-E-E-Z (You get to call people names and also spit on them in disdain here)

At times, an extra "h" could also be added to an unsuspecting letter when there arent enough opportunities (i.e, "t"s) to spit while one says something. I could notice this only for hindi sentences since I am not familiar with Tamil.

E.g. "THumhara naam kHyaa hai" or for that matter - "THum THo thehre PHardesi, saath KHyaa nibhaoge"

All in all a brilliant idea to take people by surprise and moisturize their faces. As someone who practices this technique, you also stand a fair chance of being remembered as " The person who THOOK on the world"

My advice to all who enjoy this spitting act is "Spit thrills but Kills!" - Very original one would say.

Anyway, I am still in the process of dicovering the reason for this peculiar spelling technique in this part of the country. Any comments to enlighten me here are most welcome.

With warm and wet regards,

The Blah Man

P.S: Please ensure that your comments do not carry a lot of depth. I express my absolute inability in deciphering such comments