People

I like certain kind of people.
The kind whose whose personality traits crosses path with the type of person i am or I aspire to be.
Ones who like to wear or keep certian things no matter how old just for the fact that it is comfortable/ sentimental/ just works. Don't see a point in buying/ owning something that doesn't work. Ones that work, just do.
I like people who are angry at the world for right reasons.
I like who speak their mind.
I like people with wild dreams and who have the balls to follow them with an intent to achieve it.
I LOVE people who can take criticism with an open mind.
And those who sacrifice something little to make things work in a larger group, LOVE them. Its a difficult quality to have, apparently.
Some do something good/kind for no reason. Like them.
Some do the above and try hard to avoid anyone notice it. Love them.

I can be a snob/ wierdo/recluse more often than not.
I don't like people, more often than not.
See a pattern there? Yes there is.

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.......