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

What's that!

I was in Pondicherry last weekend. I thought I would draft a post out of my experience in Pondy and put some sensible stuff on this seldom updated rotten blog which I had hoped would fetch me a lot fo money some day (Sigh...!). Well as it turns out, I was made to realise this yet again that sensible writing is not my forte.

So here it is the most remarkable part of my Pondy experience; While on a beach (locally known as the Paradise beach) I saw this:

I could infer the following from this sight with reasonable amount of confidence :

1. Aspiring to be a mermaid is not a prerogative of only women
2. As our nation progresses through an increasingly liberalised economy , it is o.k to use your underwear as your swimming trunk ( Don't question the connection between economy and underwear here, it's a complex mathematical calcullation; too esoteric to be elucidated here)
3. Indians are not dark skinned, it's just that we like to lie in the summer sun at noon wearing our underwear and unknowingly get more tanned than we'd like to

A closer look into the picture would reveal that our friend also tried to rub some sand on his body to add some oomph to the look. Baywatch babes , watch out!

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