The Good, The Bad, The Ugly
He offers me the sweets proudly. He's just landed a job at IBM. The entire room is abuzz with optimism, and the people I see around me are all pumped off, ready for take-off.
Shanti Raghavan has done it – she’s well on her way to realizing her dream, with every step of the way being an accomplishment. I remember when we met at the Indiranagar Coffee Day, almost 5 years ago. The enthusiasm hasn’t dimmed yet. EnAble India has come a long way from then. Her latest statistics are impressive: she’s managed to find employment for over 60 hearing impaired/visually impaired/physically disabled people within the first year of operation, 60% of them earn Rs. 4000 or more, and most of them have been placed in IT companies.
Her optimism is contagious: I see that in every person who has come to the class I’m taking. Few of them training on Excel, a couple on configuration management, and I can see that her magic has touched everyone. It’s hard not to get excited by such an atmosphere, to feel you’re part of a miracle that’s unfolding right in front of your own eyes. I’ve missed this for some time now - it feels good to be back.
***
I check my order status in a glum mood. Shipping, it says. WTF does that mean? They’re loading the pages one by one into the delivery van?
My niece is on the phone, ecstatic that she’s beaten me to the latest Harry Potter book. I try not to sound too thrilled when I hear that she’s actually having tests and so she can’t really read the book pronto. Jealousy is a strange beast, I tell you.
I call the Fabmall customer service first thing on Monday morning. They are politely surprised it hasn’t reached me. Yeah right! Please call us back if it doesn’t reach you today, they say. Tuesday morning, I’m back on the phone with them. No, I didn’t get it, and no, I did not step out of the house the whole darn day! The courier service calls up later: no one came yesterday? I am icily calm as I reply in the negative. All idiots, bah! Feels like someone’s cast a Petrificus Totalus on my book!
PS: It did come yesterday mid-morning, and I did devour it all down at one sitting. Life’s not so bad after all. My review: ASSAM as usual, full speed ahead for last leap.
***
The acting was awesome, but the theme was utterly revolting.
It was a production of “Filth” by Irvine Welsh (author of Trainspotting), adapted to stage by Harry Gibson, performed by Black Coffee, a pretty active and good theatre group in Bangalore. Preetam Koilpillai directed the play that starred the lone actor, Rajeev Ravindranathan.
It was sick to the core, portraying the filthy life of a cop Bruce Robertson, with all the dark, dank and sordid elements of life thrown in. Drugs, racism, office politics, pimps, sex, prostitutes, transvestites, genital eczema, toilet talk, and a monologuing tapeworm: Rajeev did it all, and was simply amazing: switching accents, postures and roles.
I came away feeling terribly low and repulsed. What an utter contrast to the splendid optimistic morning I had at my class. I wish Art would uplift, not depress! Perhaps I should have stuck around and had the complimentary Kingfisher beer (courtsey of sponsor), to cheer myself up.
Shanti Raghavan has done it – she’s well on her way to realizing her dream, with every step of the way being an accomplishment. I remember when we met at the Indiranagar Coffee Day, almost 5 years ago. The enthusiasm hasn’t dimmed yet. EnAble India has come a long way from then. Her latest statistics are impressive: she’s managed to find employment for over 60 hearing impaired/visually impaired/physically disabled people within the first year of operation, 60% of them earn Rs. 4000 or more, and most of them have been placed in IT companies.
Her optimism is contagious: I see that in every person who has come to the class I’m taking. Few of them training on Excel, a couple on configuration management, and I can see that her magic has touched everyone. It’s hard not to get excited by such an atmosphere, to feel you’re part of a miracle that’s unfolding right in front of your own eyes. I’ve missed this for some time now - it feels good to be back.
***
I check my order status in a glum mood. Shipping, it says. WTF does that mean? They’re loading the pages one by one into the delivery van?
My niece is on the phone, ecstatic that she’s beaten me to the latest Harry Potter book. I try not to sound too thrilled when I hear that she’s actually having tests and so she can’t really read the book pronto. Jealousy is a strange beast, I tell you.
I call the Fabmall customer service first thing on Monday morning. They are politely surprised it hasn’t reached me. Yeah right! Please call us back if it doesn’t reach you today, they say. Tuesday morning, I’m back on the phone with them. No, I didn’t get it, and no, I did not step out of the house the whole darn day! The courier service calls up later: no one came yesterday? I am icily calm as I reply in the negative. All idiots, bah! Feels like someone’s cast a Petrificus Totalus on my book!
PS: It did come yesterday mid-morning, and I did devour it all down at one sitting. Life’s not so bad after all. My review: ASSAM as usual, full speed ahead for last leap.
***
The acting was awesome, but the theme was utterly revolting.
It was a production of “Filth” by Irvine Welsh (author of Trainspotting), adapted to stage by Harry Gibson, performed by Black Coffee, a pretty active and good theatre group in Bangalore. Preetam Koilpillai directed the play that starred the lone actor, Rajeev Ravindranathan.
It was sick to the core, portraying the filthy life of a cop Bruce Robertson, with all the dark, dank and sordid elements of life thrown in. Drugs, racism, office politics, pimps, sex, prostitutes, transvestites, genital eczema, toilet talk, and a monologuing tapeworm: Rajeev did it all, and was simply amazing: switching accents, postures and roles.
I came away feeling terribly low and repulsed. What an utter contrast to the splendid optimistic morning I had at my class. I wish Art would uplift, not depress! Perhaps I should have stuck around and had the complimentary Kingfisher beer (courtsey of sponsor), to cheer myself up.
posted by thoughtraker at 1:10 AM
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