Yo Country - Ma Country

	Your Country	My Country
Traffic sense	Resembles a REPUBLIC DAY parade where everyone follows the rule to the last word, if not then even the worst try and mimic the person in front.	It's more like BARCELONA playing football, Keep looking for gaps and pass/ drive when u find one. Very important and crucial factor being EXPECTING the run of you fellow drivers while passing.
Etiquette	Overtly polite ppl with more than generous use of Excuse me, Thank You, Sorry and Bless You's.	Temperamental and reserved when it comes to ppl we don't know. Show of hand is supposed to express emotions from Excuse me, Sorry, Thank You to Bless You. Depending on what's appropriate to the situation and the angle of the raised hand.
Smile	Polite gesture. Preamble to interaction.	Freaky/ Shady! Tactics to avoid interaction in most cases. Refer THIS
Pedestrians	Always a priority even higher than traffic lights and rules.	Roadkill.
WAR	Any conflict across the world --> Govt insists on it: Ppl don't.	Conflict involving self with neighbor --> Ppl insist on it: Govt doesn't.
Economics	19 McChicken Burgers = Brand new low cost Vacuum cleaner = A decent Shirt = A lap dance.	19 Mc Chicken Burgers < A decent shirt < Low cost vacuum Cleaner <<<<<< Lap dance .(if u manage to find one i.e.,)
Education	Politicians are. Kids aren't.	Kids are. Politicians aren't.
Directions	"9th and state street facing south, take a left, 3 blocks down the road."	"Domlur flyover? Take right towards leela hotel, ok? then second signal, go straight, u'll see total mall on ur right, OK? go straight, small tea shop and a temple on ur left? take next right, daambur road not mud road, ask anyone there. Actually mud road is a short cut but u'll get confused."

Operation Chi-Bang: Part 4

Contd from PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

~Flashback 2019~
The frail looking militant stepped forward and looked back @ the burly man, on whose nod he reached out and pulled a slick plastic covered rectangular piece from my pocket. The thick, smooth holographic plastic-like cover did not give away what lay sealed in it. He tried to make sense of what he held in his hand. Slowly, re-treading his steps, he handed it over to his boss, who slid two fingers into the small opening on the side of the cover and pulled out a card, the moment the realized what his eyes were now looking at, he put his uzi down and wasted no time in asking the others to do the same. Like the men-above had told, “Comrade, no rouge will stop u when they see this, but use it wisely”, and their words have come true and not for the first time. I don’t know how and why our C Kompany ID commands such fear.

After para-jumping off the Cessna 172 stolen from the sheik’s private hanger (VRN’s fix when our Plan A din show up) with the last 2 pipelines in our cargo, we landed in middle of the poppy growing - militia inflicted ACHMEDI area under the cover of night for the last phase of our operation. All we needed now is a point to right direction and path which does not put us in cross-hairs of the local army police. Now that our credentials were established and IDs returned, we sat around the freshly cut opium produce of the day and listened carefully to the chief’s instructions on a crumpled hand drawn map.

~FlashForward 2020~
VRN:
VRN was the TRANSPORTER of our operation. Co-ordinating our every move, a skill or rather expertise he honed during his time in the largest airline among the oil nations. And his daily proximity to the sheik’s private airline hanger came in handy during the operation’s crucial last phase. With him positioned at karama, the mission’s ground work had begun, their moves to ‘refresh’ the hesitant oil governments had started to what seemed like a people’s revolution back then, all key ones toppled one after the other making way for the so said ‘DEMOCRATIC’ process. This enabled the men-above to create a perfect diversion while we were carrying out our mission.

~FlashBack 2011~
“When were you let in on this?” I asked bob
“the day u left for CHI” he replied. Lighting another of his UltraLights.
“So this operation, it’s just 2 of us?”
“Nope all the FAB-4” he said. And my Jaw dropped!
“And none of us knew??” I asked pushing my jaw back to its place.
“Yupp. None but one” he said with a hint of suspense.
“Who?”
“The silent one!” He said, with a smile inevitably breaking across his face.
“He knew all along?? Impossible! ”
“Don blv it? Well, picture this, who surprised us with least amount of blabber of what i-m-going-to-do next talks? When we spoke incessantly- he was quiet, When we spoke of job change- he quit and quietly went to the sea, When we spoke on & on abt study & did nothing- he gave his xams and joined college! Quiet, well planned, and purposeful with least amount of fuss, and to think of it he happens to be the only one amongst us who never went to SHOOTFIGHTERS, now, makes any sense et all? He’s the man behind the scene, overseeing that our mission clicks like clockwork. And that's not the best part , I’v come to hear that his real name is not Nandu, that’s just one of his many aliases. Nobody knows his real name- he goes by Nandu, Francis, Ranbir or Chetta depending on who u believe. He’s the SPOC of men-above and our mission’s PUPPETEER”

~FlashForward 2019~
The opium lords were kind enuf to provide us with two of their horses and a cart, our transport. After 2 days and 3 nights of cold wind and sand blowing into our body openings we finally reach ACHMED OIL site. Nandu was there waiting for us, as he always was, one step ahead. He helped us unload the pipes and got to work immediately wasting no time. After 5 hrs of assembling, checking and re-checking finally a satisfied Nandu radioed our co-ordinates to karama and VRN confirmed a chopper would pick us up @ 0600 next morning, just before the break of light. As we huddled in a tent that chilly December night, a distant murmur of a Black Hawk that we waited for so long finally came by, Nandu shot a red flare star to assert our position and just like that, after 7 years of running from one corner of the world to another, Project Chi-Bang was finally over.

~Present Day (late 2020)~
With the operation complete, C Kompany had no reason to continue as a front. The company was taken over by a government organization to handle its “IT requirements”, the reason stated for purchase. Just a matter of time before it would slowly cease to exist. As for us the Fab4, we return to our mundane cover, waiting for our next mission, if time comes, if duty calls.

Signing off-
Shady: The Tactician!

Operation Chi-Bang: Part 3

Contd from PART 1, PART 2

“AC Ducts?? Wtf??”
“Pipelines” he said, like it was supposed to mean something.
“What?” I asked to make sure if I heard him right
“PIPELINE, SHETTY, PIPELINE” he insistently repeated.

Then it struck me. This is what it’s all about. The pipelines. All the talks and jokes abt “Our projects are in Pipeline” which we heard so often in C Kompany when pushed around, asking for work. Which we then laughed and poked fun on, except now, I’m too skeptical to break a smile let alone a laugh.

Bob filled me in on how these innocuous looking AC DUCTS were some kind of secret prototype pipeline set pieces, which, when delivered and assembled at each ones crucial junction will go on to create a golden loop and regulate all the 69 major oil pipelines of the world. This would somehow go forward to secure the world and has been a long awaited move waiting for it’s time in history to be made.

He further went on to explain how these had to be hidden for so long under the front of running a service company, as long as it took these pipes to become part of an urban legend from a most sought after hidden treasure by anti-national outfits to leverage. And that’s what they did, with a deliberate shady outfit as ours, showing random ups n downs, which declared profits in recession and not when market in upswing, employing best minds from automobile to tech to sports to fill empty seats, they pulled off a perfect cover with absolute overdose of randomness.

“Now you must be wondering - if it’s so bloody secretive, why was it hanging out in the open all these yrs” he asked.
“Plain view is the best hiding!” I reply in epiphany.
He nodded in agreement.
“What now?” I asked
“We are the delivery guys, the ones who survived after 4 yrs of screening to carry it out!” he replied
“Meaning?”
“The ones who’d deliver these pipes to all the 69 touch points, under the radar, unarmed. THE SECRET MISSION I wired u about!” he said .

~FlashForward 2020~
Now that the mission is over it all comes together, what purpose we served, why were we doing wha we did.

FAB:
Fab was the operation’s Techie, C Kompany was just her boot camp, was picked of all the techies, not cos she was best of the lot, cos she had more than just the tech stuff, something that can’t be taught, CHARM. The men-above tactfully arranged for her to be placed in SERIOUS company. There she, unknowingly, worked on code which was then being developed for next generation military surveillance and radar, tracking every cross border movement. She wrote codes which were pure poetry in geek world, sound and secure, which boggled even the best minds. A virtual fort. But as they say, nobody knows the weakness of a fort better than its architect.

The next stroke of brilliance from the men-above came when they, like master chess players, planned a very natural transition for her from the smaller firm to the BIG one, and not just any big company, it had to be the BIG BLUE. This obviously not without a reason, BIG BLUE’s command over the world system network is unmatched and that’s exactly what we would need later on. In years to come, with calculated and timely promotions, FAB would be at helm of a particular network division of our interest. Right where the men-above would require her to be when she’d be taken into our fold. And with Fab on board in late 2014 we had “under the radar” part covered.

Continued in PART 4....

Operation Chi-Bang: Part 2

Contd from PART 1

~FlashForward 2019~
“How do we move these to achmed’istan Oil ??” I asked a local opium farmer.
He looked at us, the beige jumpsuits we wore, it was a contrast to the blistering ACHMED heat treated arid land, perplexed and by now a bit unsettled, he summoned his gun totting henchmen. 7 of them. Mood of alarm had set in, they pointed semi-automatic Uzi’s at us and spoke rapid achmed’ani dialect. Bob translated it for me between his ciggi puffs, he had learnt the dialect or say quite a few local languages along with lotsa killer Krav Maga moves during his stint as Presaleman, a front obviously. He was this operation’s Translator.

Henchman: !@!@!@ *STARES*
Me: wha’s he saying ?
Bob: He’s asking me to put this ciggi down.
Me: Then why the fuck are u not?
Bob: Cos I don give a fuck bob !
Me: Say we just need directions. And put the fucking ciggi out.
Bob: !@@!!@@
Henchman: !@!@!@ *STARES*
Bob: Says he’ll shoot me if I don’t drop it till he counts to three.
Me: drop it, will u?
Bob: “Ah! fuck it.” He said and put his light out.
Bob to Henchman : “!@!@#@#@#!@##”

One of the frail looking henchman is instructed by, who seemed like, their boss. He slings his uzi to the side on his shoulder, lets it hang there and walks towards me.

Henchman to Bob: “@#$##$*(&*(&*(&”
Me: Wha’s happening?
Bob: “Don move or he’ll blow both to bits. That prick is gonna check ur jumpsuit’s pocket. I asked him to.” he said with a smile in the last sentence, smile, so did I, cos wha lay in our pockets will rattle their spine.

~FlashBack 2011~
“Fab left C Kompany to a SERIOUS one, VRN went back to karama, and Nandu became a sailor, I became a presaleman and you went to CHI" Said bob leading me down from the unlit server room on a spiral stairs, we must have passed 5 floors already I said to myself,
"What’s the connection?” he asked.
“Nothing” I replied.
“C Kompany- Shetty!!! each one of us was moved strategically or made to stay as per one’s level of involvement reqd for the operation” he said with a annoyed expression, which was directed at my cluelessness.
“What Operation?? ‘Level of Involvement’ in what??” I asked.
“THIS” he replied and flicked the switch on.

The sudden brightness, of what seemed like a dozen high power flood lights, blinded me for a minute but when my eyes adjusted to the light I saw a room full , tens if not hundreds, of what once were the Overhead AC ducts that had filled the now multicolor renovated Bldg 1 with it's newly acquired asbestos. I looked at it and looked back at bob. Wide eyed and confused.

Continued in PART 3.......

Operation Chi-Bang: Part 1

Wire dated Mar-10-2011 :
Chi -to- Bang

Subject: GOLD MEDAL??

Bob,
Off all the ppl who matter only u & me are left in C Kompany from our batch. Su left yesterday… Where do we apply for a medal in KMS??

-----------------------------------------------------
Reply Wire dated Mar-11-2011:
Bang-to-Chi

Subject: RE: GOLD MEDAL??

Gold medal rakhein hain khate...unhe bolein 5 saal complete hone pe secret mission pe bhejenge..wahan jaake puzzle solve kiye toh gold..
          Translates to: "Apparenly Gold medals are waiting for us... They said after completing 5 years they'd be sending us on a secret misson.. If we go there and solve the puzzle then GOLD it is.."



~Circa 2020 ~

Now back @ home, looking at this mail which, back then, i so childishly dismissed as just another rant from BOB. This is where it all began March 11 2011, what I forgot to consider back then was that with bob now in Presales he had much more info than what i blvd him to have. In all those unassuming banter we so often had after his so said TRANSFER, I never caught his clues, but now when I look back it all makes sense. C kompany, Bob, my Lucky break, The red satin ribbon around my neck right now and the big gold medal which it’s there to hold-everything makes perfect sense now.

The set pieces as they are:

~ Flashback 2007~

C Kompany:
Set in an unassuming surrounding, it could have very well been mistaken for a gdown than any workplace back then. It brought in a wide assortment of ppl, from dumb to super dumb to the street smart to the smart asses of out generation. None knew why they joined this joint. None knew why they stuck on to it for as long as they did. None know why they still are there and wha’s holding them back from moving. All these doubts were diligently answered with a single lazy conclusion: FATE. But the men upstairs had much more on their minds for how our fate would be decided by the mechanics of their fingertips. It was tough, barbaric, but nevertheless we both made it, and the gold medal stands as a proof to that.

~Flashfoward 2011~

I had just returned from CHI, jetlag and profusely sweating in BANG, thanks to the inhumane cold conditions that my body had taken to there. I called bob and asked him to drop by later that evening at my place, but his reply, the tone and the words he uttered, he said “come to office @ 11:45pm sharp. I’ll wait for u in ccd our usual table, come by walk and keep ur cell in SILENT mode” and he dropped the call. All this brought a strange feeling of doubt and awkwardness in me but I attributed it to my Jet lag.

As instructed I reached ccd a minute early @ 11:44. He was seated @ our table, smoking a Kings ultra milds, we hugged and he straight away put out his ciggi (very unusual of him) and gestured me to follow him. The place looked renovated, colorful and slick, all with asbestos ceilings and bight colored glass panes. For some reason the lights were out, and no guards at the table, Bob lead me with the torch, from wha seemed like a blackberry phone. We went straight to the SERVER ROOM on 2nd floor. Bob paused, looked back at me smiled and swiped his card at the panel outside the server room, all this happened so fast that I had no time to stop him from setting off the admin’s alarm, but to my surprise the door opened with a silent hisss. He walked in and I followed him there, the door shut behind us as we did.

Continued in PART 2......

Banalities & Absurdities

U never get what u want,
U get something u want, n that something doesn't,
U within reach of a thing, and ur wants change,
Between the wants and dont's what remains is true.

Pretentious glasses have blinded many,
Cosmetic feelings won't last like reality any,
Those serviced and served wud never know the table's turn,
Those whims and demands wud never know to provide when torn.

Find no emotion from a wounded brave,
In memory buried deep he holds lost grave,
To dare is not play in one's backyard with noble to bicker,
To dare is what seems like absurd to lay mind which knows no better.

The GENIUS within

Genius:
Defn: An exceptional natural capacity of intellect, especially as shown in creative and original work in science, art, music.

This, my friends is a screwed up version of the real meaning of the term Genius. Genius as a real thing is not a person or his exceptional ability to do something. It’s an instance of an external phenomenon that transcends into a being. Now now, bear with me here. I’m not trying to intellectualize some concept but to explain you one which really came across as a revelation to me and I personally blv it be the absolute truth.

In times long ago Genius was considered to be an external phenomenon or rather a spirit that possessed certain individual at certain time and place, which might have been triggered by some thought, or work or environment. Now this idea or thought process, as true as they blvd it to be, did two things very effectively:
1. The individual who was “possessed” the genius was indeed free of any obligation as he was a mere medium rather than the Genius itself. [Imagine a writer or painter not having to worry about facing a writer’s/ Painter’s block.]
2. These said people were free of any adulation and subjected to merely being respected, for the same reasons stated abv.

Ask anyone who writes or paints or does any work of creativity, and more often than not they would agree that, beyond doubt that they are “in the flow” at times, times like when they come up with the most beautiful words to put across their ideas, the finest details in theirs paintings, handle and transform the most delicate notes in music, and seamlessly so. That is the moment when they are possessed by the GENIUS. All of them will tell you that it’s not them who choose the time and place and frame of mind to be creative but it’s this certain “something” that shows up unannounced and makes you go into that mode. If that moment is past you then that piece of creativity is lost on you. You cannot conceptualize or think of an idea when u are possessed by it and work on it at a later point in time. Nope Nope. The genius would have left you by then. Taking that piece of creativity with it, to find another body to transcend into and make that it’s medium.

As among most of the other things, it seems like the GENIUS has it’s favourites and it chooses to be more kind on SOME than it is on others, that or these SOME individuals have found a secret way to invoke the genius that others are yet to figure. Nevertheless, the so called Genius, i blv, transcends into each one of us, may be in different capacities, in ways that you may not take notice, but it does. What you make of it, or rather how much or little, is solely left to what the Genius has to offer to you or what u can personally make of it.