<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012</id><updated>2012-02-15T23:13:58.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sense &amp; Nonsense</title><subtitle type='html'>"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope and that enables you to laugh at life's realities."     ~ Doctor Seuss</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-553743022503915243</id><published>2007-03-05T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T22:07:37.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shortchanged</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It wasn’t a pleasant conversation over the telephone. It never is, when the person at the other end happens to be a greedy tax officer. Life isn’t simple and straightforward for me with these guys whom I have to face all the time. It is one of those occupational hazards after all. Invariably, I spend time figuring out the ways of evading these tax guys rather than tax itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find a compelling need for the above prelude to what I am going to narrate. Immediately after that tele-conversation I joined the tax officer on a busy street in the city. I don’t see how we had fixed up all the things. We were heading to a wedding. As we walked, he was driving a bargain for a higher ‘cut’ in the ‘deal’, obviously a quid-pro-quo. By the time we reached the marriage hall, I was plunged deep in thought weighing the pros and cons of the offer that he had made. I was unaware of the proceedings around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn’t even noticed that my companion was missing until I was woken up from my musings by the bride groom himself. It was just a matter of common sense for me to realize that this bubbly figure, fully decked up is the man of the day. It was hard to place him right away but the fog cleared slowly and the edgy realization dawned on me that this was the man who arrived with me. By now he was completely ready for the events that were to unfold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I escorted him to the mandapam along with the others. As he took up his designated seat I found myself standing among the photographers who were bent upon catching every silly gesture of the bride groom in their snaps.  Somehow in the confusion I was not able to see the bride while being brought to the mandapam. She was already seated next to the groom when I rushed forward to catch a glimpse of her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The very next moment I wanted to run away from there, but the bride had caught sight of me and beckoned to me. Can things get more revolting than this? Being the gentleman that I am, trying to make a polite face, I nudged my way up to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had courted for a long time. We had promised each other a whole lot of things I guess every couple, aspiring to get married one day, make. Where were all those tender moments and memories gone? What of the great future that we had planned for ourselves? My mind was racing in all directions. There were more thoughts in it than thinking. After all what is left that she can tell me now? Her beautified face was a pool of pity for this ill-fated creature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She whispered something that sounded like “don’t worry, you’ll find a much better girl than me”. Empty though these words were, they could neither cause me any pain nor could they be balm for any pain. Deep within me I felt my heart continue its beat. Assured though I was that it wasn’t broken as it should be expected, there remained an uneasy sense of numbness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the long cultivated habit of hiding the innate feelings, I managed to give a considered nod for the words that made no difference whatsoever. I forced a wry smile at the couple who waited for the matrimonial ceremonies to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who do I blame for the predicament I find myself in….? The question revolved again and again in my head as I woke up from the bed. It was a week day and a day to face the sickening taxman. The only consolation that remained was that what took place all this while was only in a dream, a bad dream at that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;P.S: The shortchanging at times I have felt is happening all the while, if not of the bride of other things of life atleast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-553743022503915243?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/553743022503915243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=553743022503915243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/553743022503915243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/553743022503915243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2007/03/shortchanged.html' title='Shortchanged'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-6694645373565531764</id><published>2007-03-01T07:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T07:26:42.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Capitalism: What about ‘in practice’?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The last decade and a half has witnessed a boom in our economy. Liberalization and privatization no doubt have been the chief agents of this miracle as in the western developed economies. Yet again capitalism has triumphed. The theory of ‘invisible hand’ is after all invincible. It has in it the best mechanism to produce and distribute the wealth of the nations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With higher per capita income people have come to enjoy a higher standard of living. Competitive market economy has made it possible for the economic participants to reap the benefits of a growing economy. When the stakeholders in the private sector seem to have a windfall can those in the governance be kept at bay? A piece in the expanding cake rightfully belongs to them too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does one transplant the market economic techniques into the governance sector to replicate therein the efficiency of the private sector? Whether we have recognized it or not, I believe it has already happened in good measure. Market economy is not an artificial invention but the natural phenomenon, a possible behavioral pattern arising out of normal human interaction. So also in the interaction between the government and the governed a natural process of discovering the best possible mechanism of mutual benefit is only expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my humble opinion, what we widely perceive as corruption in government establishments is verily the capitalistic technique at work. At one level it is the incentive for the efficiency of the government personnel and in a larger perspective, it is the mechanism for the wealth of the economy to reach those in government. May be we have to come out of the conservative and misconceived notion that corruption is unethical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to what may appear, my idea of setting forth the above argument is not to justify corruption on grounds of capitalism, but to question the justification of capitalism itself. If one holds on to the idea that corruption is immoral and dishonorable, then one has to review the well rooted idea that capitalism is ethical and capitalism is morally right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corruption thrives on power, access to information and the vulnerability of the victim. In that sense, capitalism is not very different. It flourishes on the strength of the financial muscle, asymmetry of information and the vulnerability of the consumer. The rosy pictures painted of the success of capitalism are just one side of the story. There are multitudes who are marginalized and excluded from the benefits of progress. What about the fact that 10% of population of the world owns 80% of the world’s wealth? What about the insatiable thirst of consumers and the instinct of the businessmen to cash in on that? What about the enormity of damage caused to nature in this mad pursuit? And in all these we have not even taken up the issue of deterioration in the quality of life itself. Let me not go on further on those lines lest I sound preachy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No doubt by now the votaries of capitalism have rushed to the defense of it - in theory capitalism does not encourage any of these practices. That is right, yet the fact remains that it is only in theory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-6694645373565531764?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/6694645373565531764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=6694645373565531764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/6694645373565531764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/6694645373565531764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2007/03/capitalism-what-about-in-practice.html' title='Capitalism: What about ‘in practice’?'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-114356090353824258</id><published>2006-03-28T21:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T07:48:23.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being in love</title><content type='html'>Plato said "At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet". Just got some inspiration to look around for some quotes on being in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you find out what makes them cry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love - a wildly misunderstood although highly desirable malfunction of the heart which weakens the brain, causes eyes to sparkle, cheeks to glow, blood pressure to rise and the lips to pucker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When love is not madness, it is not love.  ~Pedro Calderon de la Barca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ultimate test of a relationship is to disagree but to hold hands.  ~Quoted by Alexandra Penney in Self&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-114356090353824258?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/114356090353824258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=114356090353824258' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/114356090353824258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/114356090353824258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2006/03/being-in-love.html' title='Being in love'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-114356106128790198</id><published>2006-03-28T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T07:51:01.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sense &amp; Nonsense</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sense &amp; Nonsense&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-114356106128790198?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/114356106128790198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=114356106128790198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/114356106128790198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/114356106128790198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2006/03/sense-nonsense.html' title='Sense &amp; Nonsense'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-112623943647757701</id><published>2005-09-09T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T21:17:16.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to basics of management</title><content type='html'>Very often we need to get back to our basics and refresh our fundamentals. Read on to brush up management lessons - &lt;a href="http://www.business-standard.com/search/storypage_new.php?leftnm=lmnu0&amp;leftindx=0&amp;amp;lselect=&amp;autono=199538"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The relevance of the M-word&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; from today's Business Standard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-112623943647757701?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/112623943647757701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=112623943647757701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112623943647757701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112623943647757701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/09/back-to-basics-of-management.html' title='Back to basics of management'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-112618115442958125</id><published>2005-09-08T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T05:05:54.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sanskrit Teacher</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There are pleasures of life that we experience when others achieve the heights. One such pleasure which I had of late was to see the message that my school sanskrit teacher, Mr. K R Vedanarayan has been awarded the President's Award. He was one of the 306 teachers to have received the award for 2004 from the president on 5th Sep 2005. His name may be located at number 287 of the list released on &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://pib.nic.in/archieve/image/2005/r2005090509.doc"&gt;Press Information Bureau's (PIB) website&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;I am proud to be his student. (A teacher is a teacher forever. That is why I chose to use the present tense construction of this sentence).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; [Further, to blow my trumpet, I had got 100% in Sanskrit in the exam conducted by Sanskrit Teachers' Association, Chennai in 1998 and I have treasured the certificate with my sanskrit teacher's autograph at the back.]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-112618115442958125?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/112618115442958125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=112618115442958125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112618115442958125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112618115442958125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-sanskrit-teacher.html' title='My Sanskrit Teacher'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-112558651759115790</id><published>2005-09-01T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T08:00:05.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Money Matters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Many a time I feel that probably I am selling myself cheap, I should have gone in search of greener pastures elsewhere. But then again, I have never actually had money at the top most of my mind. How about others?... I have very frequently wondered. Here is something to read on if you too ever wondered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Work and love are ok; but money gives me nirvana&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;LOPAMUDRA GHATAK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INDIATIMES NEWS NETWORK [ THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 01, 2005 01:09:15 AM]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Money frees you from doing things you dislike. Since I dislike doing nearly everything, money is handy.” &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Groucho Marx (1890 - 1977)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Samrat Bhattacharya, unlike American actor Groucho Marx does not ‘dislike doing nearly everything’. But like Marx, this 30+something manager in a Delhi-based MNC believes that ‘money can be a liberating experience’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Apart from enhancing spending power and hiking my social equity, money also lets me be myself. Thanks to money, I can conveniently flaunt branded apparels, accessories and spend money on doing what I like doing,” Bhattacharya, whose weekend expenditure ranges anywhere between Rs 3,000 to Rs 8,000 says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although Bhattacharya’s father, who retired recently after having worked in a PSU bank for 30 years, fails to connect with his son’s slightly hedonistic lifestyle, he himself acknowledges that times have changed. More importantly, people’s perception about money has also undergone a huge transformation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharmila Joshi, who is a voice trainer in a call centre, has no qualms that money is an important ingredient towards a better life. And, without any hesitation, she admits that “money figures high on my priority list.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It would be foolish to say that money is not important. In today’s world, money is very important, rather essential in order to survive,” Joshi, 29, who left her boyfriend in Delhi and moved to Mumbai for a job that paid her more, says, without any hesitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from being an essential factor for survival, money also spells out mental security and assurance. And for many young professionals like Bhattacharya and Joshi, a life replete with luxuries is possible only thanks to money. And it is this quest for a better life that has young professionals looking to make a fast buck while the sun shines!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But are young pros actually chasing money?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, they are also chasing their dreams, of fulfilling oneself,” says Vasantha Patri, chairperson, Indian Institute of Counselling. “With a mad scramble for time and demanding jobs in tow, young professionals have no choice but to make the best of given time, resources and also derive maximum benefit from the given set of situations.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this instant age of consumerist culture, money is being increasingly seen as an index of success. From branded clothes, glitzy accessories, swanky cars, expensive vacations and eating out sessions, money has helped convert erstwhile items of luxury into simple needs. In other words, money has strengthened the belief that it ‘big bucks make life easy’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I work hard throughout the week. The only time when I get to socialise and be myself with my friends is during the weekend. And during such outings, I don’t mind spending money as it also enhances my spending power, and reflects on my success in the professional front,” T Thomas, a corporate lawyer based in Mumbai, says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a world being swept in by material tidings, money has emerged as a key player in forging emotional bond and human relationships. Patri feels that “the onset of early careers has led to young professionals trying to make ends meet by becoming a part of the gold rush,” and for our new age pros, money clubbed together along with professional success can act as a heady combination. But the amount of money that young pros have and are willing to spend also determines how they’ll fare among their peers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from being a measure of personal success, the kind of money one has also determines the kind of friends one will gain. While the sentimental ones spew that “there are some things that money can’t buy,” there are many who insist that money does play a crucial role in forming friendships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money works, and talks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Money does play an important role, especially in the workplace. The kind of money you have will reflect on the kind of clothes you wear and your spending power and before you can even realise, an image is built in the mind of your colleagues of the kind of person you are,” Kallol Saha, a project manager in an IT company in Bangalore, says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bhattacharya, who doesn’t feel guilty about spending Rs 8,000 on a weekend outing, agrees with what Saha says. “Apart from image building, money also gives a sense of assurance and confidence. And in any gathering, self-assured people do draw a lot of positive attention.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as upward mobility and leading a good life occupies top priority for new age professionals, there are people like Rishi Nath who belong to the old school of thought, especially when it comes to money. The successful PR manager in a leading hotel feels that “money may be important but there is scope for old values and friendships to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I was absolutely new when I came to Mumbai and although I hated it initially, I soon found a good set of friends at the workplace who have been there for me. And money took a backseat,” Nath says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Patri terms the rush for money as “an inevitable consequence, thanks to the transition taking place in society, with good things having been scarce erstwhile,” there is no doubt that money does occupy priority in the scheme of things in the lives of young professionals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for many, to borrow from Woody Allen, &lt;em&gt;“Money is better than poverty, if only for financial reasons."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-112558651759115790?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/112558651759115790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=112558651759115790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112558651759115790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112558651759115790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/09/money-matters.html' title='Money Matters'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-112446457151676938</id><published>2005-08-19T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T08:16:11.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Framing</title><content type='html'>We know that words are deceptive. Read from the &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rockridgeinstitute.org/projects/strategic/simple_framing"&gt;Rockridge Institute&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt; website about the concept of Framing. Very interesting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-112446457151676938?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/112446457151676938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=112446457151676938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112446457151676938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112446457151676938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/08/framing_19.html' title='Framing'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-112055947949941192</id><published>2005-07-05T03:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T03:31:19.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanna know more about yourself?</title><content type='html'>In case you wanted to know more about yourself visit &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://piv.pivpiv.dk "&gt;&lt;em&gt;http://piv.pivpiv.dk&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-112055947949941192?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/112055947949941192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=112055947949941192' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112055947949941192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112055947949941192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/07/wanna-know-more-about-yourself.html' title='Wanna know more about yourself?'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-112040656802141000</id><published>2005-07-03T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T09:12:31.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Da Vinci Code</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Recently I was travelling briefly to my home town and I happened to pick this book from the roadside bookseller. Not a bad bargain for 100 bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book has earned rave reviews and made good money for the author. As a pulp fiction, the book is an excellent read. Being fair to the author - he has tried hard to be fair to all those involved viz. the Catholic church, Priory of Sion &amp; the Opus Dei. However, I guess that is more on a pragmatic line of thinking on his part than for any other reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a reader, I picked up the book to know the "Truth" and got disheratened when I finally learn from the author that he has been trying to "Entertain" me with a thriller. Mr. Dan Brown has only written a brilliant treasure-hunt story that takes place over-night. The clues are so very artificially made up (and more artificially decoded by the protagonists) that they are totally devoid of any sincere motives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't find meaning in the kind of reasearch that the author has put in to unearth the truth because, if it were sincere, then what resulted would not have been a cheap thriller at the expense of the Church and the Opus Dei. Definitely peoples' faith is not something to be lightly played with in the way done by Mr. Dan Brown. (And then he asks what is faith if it is not fabricated?) Da Vinci must be really feeling helpless (wherever he is) seeing the way his art is being used as a testimony in a thriller by a best-selling author to alter the history so very naively without bothering to give a thought to the immense damage that is being caused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the time I was reading the book and also after I finished it I was going on trying to answer one question that constantly popped up on my mind - "after all what is religion?" Is it just a set of do's and don'ts that are put in by some messiah (just to keep the people disciplined)? How does one become messiah? Are all messiahs some kind of influential men who put on the mantel of a messiah to put down these do's and dont's just like Jesus? (Mr. Brown thinks Jesus was an influential person to seduce a princess but not influential enough to avoid his crucifixion. Even then his eyes fall only on the influential trait rather than the magnanimity of His character in suffering crucifixion).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the question of what is religion if it were just a set of do's and dont's then religion is nothing more than the rules put in by the governments or the kinds of false fears that are created in the minds of children to keep them from being naughty (as is very common in Indian parenting). Christianity as a religion is actually founded on such a premise (Fear of hell and heaven has been so successfully imbibed in the religion). The very concept of religion is actually to contain the spiritual essence and definitely the followers of Christ missed the actual point. Defintely if Christ were to come down today, He would say that He is not a Christian and would not like to be one. If you take the Islam religion also, there are similar premises as that of Christianity. Historically, we need to acknowledge the fact that in all the cases, the founders of these religions have propagated the messages relevant for that point of time and for that very reason, their teachings are to be accordingly understood (and did the world give all those enough time to convey the complete message...Jesus, the Prophet, Zoraoster, Joan of Arc, all were abruptly interrupted in their duty).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India is the only land that has been tolerent to all kinds of messiahs and that is exactly the reason for the spiritual wealth (mind you, not religious chaos) of this country. A spiritual teaching is a powerful truth that stands intelectual &amp;amp; experimental scrutiny and is not necessarily to be blindly followed on faith - this is what this country has been proclaiming to the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this context, I am reminded of 2 significant books on Indian spirituality. One by Paul Brunton - &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cygnus-books.co.uk/mind_body_spirit_books/search_secret_india.htm"&gt;A Search in secret India (1931)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt; and the other by William Somerset Maugham - &lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/electronic/bodhidharma/mentor.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Razor's Edge (1946)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; later made into a movie (1984).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same questions that are being asked in respect of The Da Vinci Code - "whether these are true?" must have been asked even of The Razor's Edge and Somerset Maugham's words - "I have invented nothing". But then he has portrayed things in it in all sincerity. I was very much touched by the book and the honesty of the author. (The author has not his personal gains on his agenda naturally!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is from the first words of Somerset Maugham in his book which I like every one cherish:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The man I am writing about is not famous. It may be that he never will be. It may be that when his life at last comes to an end he will leave no more trace of his sojourn on earth than a stone thrown into a river leaves on the surface of the water. But it may be that the way of life that he has chosen for himself and the peculiar strength and sweetness of his character may have an ever-growing influence over his fellow men so that, long after his death perhaps, it may be realized that there lived in this age a very remarkable creature."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't we think of Jesus Christ and respect Him for the same reason whatever His followers have made of Him and His teachings? After all without the experiential element, isn't religion just another rule book which we can rewrite as our fancies dictate?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-112040656802141000?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/112040656802141000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=112040656802141000' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112040656802141000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/112040656802141000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/07/da-vinci-code.html' title='Da Vinci Code'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-111777211342552120</id><published>2005-06-02T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T21:15:13.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ICAI finalises Guidance Note on fringe tax</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;ICAI finalises Guidance Note on fringe tax&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31st May, 2005 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ICAI finalises Guidance Note on fringe tax &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corporates would soon have guidance on how they should account and disclose the amounts paid towards fringe benefit tax (FBT). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Institute of Chartered Accountants of India (ICAI) has finalised a Guidance Note that requires corporates to disclose FBT as a separate line item in their financial statements. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would also imply that FBT would have to be disclosed separately in both the quarterly as well as annual earnings disclosures of corporates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The FBT has to be shown as a line item that is separate from the current tax liability of the company. FBT is not a tax on income of the company and therefore cannot form part of the current tax liability," said Mr Ved Jain, Chairman, Fiscal Laws Committee of the ICAI. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also said that FBT couldn't be considered as part of employee cost as it was an additional tax and the liability to pay this tax was on the employer and not on the employee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-111777211342552120?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/111777211342552120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=111777211342552120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111777211342552120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111777211342552120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/06/icai-finalises-guidance-note-on-fringe.html' title='ICAI finalises Guidance Note on fringe tax'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-111777177343623850</id><published>2005-06-02T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T21:09:33.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Govt draws plan to open audit sector</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Govt draws plan to open audit sector&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30th May, 2005 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Govt draws plan to open audit sector. Local firms against move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India is likely to offer opening up of audit and accounting services in the second round of offers to be submitted for the services negotiations at the World Trade Organisation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The proposal is part of the note which would be taken up by the cabinet committee on WTO shortly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is for the cabinet to decide. We have suggested it," said a senior commerce department source. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India's plan will focus on offering concessions on mode 3 (commercial presence) in return for other modes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The move is expected to benefit multinational audit and accounting firms which have already entered India to offer consulting services. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indian chartered accountants opposed the entry of bid firms in the audit market. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foreign firms should not be allowed to take up statutory and other (non-voluntary) audit assignments,? said Kamlesh S Vikamsey, President, Institute of Chartered Accountants of India. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said that foreign firms were not regulated by the ICAI and it would be difficult to fix responsibility on them when they are allowed into the statutory accounting business in India. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ICAI is also of the opinion that the government should insist on signing mutual recognition agreements among all WTO member countries if it were to open up the accounting business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is important that there is reciprocity and there are no non-trade barriers like visa, residency or capital norms from other countries," Vikamsey said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, he added that there was a need to undertake steps to strengthen the Indian accounting and audit firms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The number of members should be increased from 20, multi-disciplinary activities should be allowed and firms should have a limited liability, Vikamsey said. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-111777177343623850?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/111777177343623850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=111777177343623850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111777177343623850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111777177343623850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/06/govt-draws-plan-to-open-audit-sector.html' title='Govt draws plan to open audit sector'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-111768667778778832</id><published>2005-06-01T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T21:31:17.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JJ Irani Committee Report Presented to the government</title><content type='html'>http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/articleshow/msid-1128443,curpg-1.cms&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-111768667778778832?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/111768667778778832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=111768667778778832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111768667778778832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111768667778778832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/06/jj-irani-committee-report-presented-to.html' title='JJ Irani Committee Report Presented to the government'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-111714090627801531</id><published>2005-05-26T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T13:55:06.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sense This!</title><content type='html'>It takes less time to do a thing right, than it does&lt;br /&gt;to explain why you did it wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Henry Wadsworth Longfellow&lt;br /&gt;(1819-1892, American Poet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-111714090627801531?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/111714090627801531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=111714090627801531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111714090627801531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/111714090627801531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2005/05/sense-this.html' title='Sense This!'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-110361549025399288</id><published>2004-12-21T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-20T23:51:30.253-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heard OF Frank Kutsienyo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Heard of Frank Kutsienyo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;22 December, 2003&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Dear friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to know people, love them and are loved. When we are with them never ever do we give a thought of parting from them; worse, parting forever. But then reality strikes hard when it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings to you the news of sad demise of our dear friend Frank Kutsienyo. On the 21st of Dec, the Sunday morning, he passed away peacefully in Brindavan. Though he was suffering from respiratory ailment for long, we do not know for sure if that was the reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very good person, fun loving, very devoted to Bhagwan and his duty, Frank will be remembered by all of us. He has been here in India from 1983 and in Brindavan from 1985. He led the life of a medieval monk distributing his time for prayer, work and rest. A very strong adherent to discipline and Bhagwan's teachings. People always remembered him first when in need of any help of any sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In losing him, we console ourselves that Bhagwan has taken him to Himself. We pray his soul rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Venkat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Venkatesh.G,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;ABB - Bangalore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That ominous morning I already had the lurking fear in my heart as I started out to my office. I had been woken off my sleep in the wee hours of the morning by a resentful dream. Even as I rubbed the sleep off my eyes, I felt my heart skip the beats in anxiety. It was Monday, the 22nd of December 2003.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was none familiar to me in the dream though the scene made me feel it was a Tamil wedding. Possibly yes a Tamil wedding because just ten days earlier to this I had had been to one. The marriage hall that was abuzz with activity till then had been brought to a still by the news that the grooms, three in number, had died. The band and all the musicals stopped abruptly. All this happened without utterance of a word. (This I know because I usually dream in English and to this day I am unable to frame the proper sentence any one would have used to convey the matter in any language).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the office, it was peculiar on that morning. Only I had reported and my colleagues in our group, 3 of them hadn’t turned up. My boss of course, just as the proverbial boss had been early to check out if the employees had come in time. Around half past 9 I got a call and a friend said that he had sad news for me. At that point of time I never thought that there could be any news that can make life sadder for it was already sad enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank was a support I had leaned on and drew my strength from. Three months before this fateful day I had moved away from Kadugodi nearer to my office in the city. Otherwise, he was my next-door neighbor. We lived in an old and dilapidated shoebox like rooms just behind Trayee Brindavan and only a compound wall separated us from His residence. Frank had lived in a single room since he arrived in Kadugodi in 1985 and in 1992 got an annex built to his existing one-room residence so that he had a private bathroom. He paid a monthly rent of Rs.300/- per month for this luxurious apartment while I shelled out Rs.400/- per month for a single room and a common bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had friends coming to stay over night and at times that single room had hosted as many as five people when Bhagawan was in Brindavan. Frank invited everyone who visited me into his own apartment for tea for which he was popular with my tea connoisseur friends. I used to get calls from my family and friends at Frank’s telephone. Looking back, I have no doubt that that was the best part of my post hostel life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning I would leave by the Marikuppam train around 8:30. I never missed to bid him good bye and he would respond with the same words day after day “O.K. come early this evening” and I too would without hesitation say “Yes Frank I’ll try”. But consistently I would be back only after Frank had been to his bed. He had a strict routine. He would wake up by 6 in the morning and when Bhagwan was in Brindavan, he would be up by 3:30 and would be off to his line duty in the ashram by 5:00 after getting ready and having completed his morning worship. And at night, the lights will go off by 9:30 and he would say “I am better than boys in the hostel. I put off my lights promptly.” He was already in his early 50’s then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There would be days when I would by some good fortune be back before Frank lay down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had spacious quadrangle before our dwellings. Immediately in front of the doors we had little gardens when our seventy-year old Russian neighbor worked on her darling plants diligently and tirelessly. On other occasions it was a tiny jungle. She used to be here only when Bhagwan was in Brindavan. A tree grew right in from my room and tied to one of its branches was a tube light that was the only illumination at night for us outside. Below the tree was a lowly laid platform of granite on which I did my weekly washing of the clothes on Sundays. On other days that stone was my seat. In front of his room, Frank had installed a bamboo basket chair on which he used to relax (and later rested forever). On such occasions when I would be able to catch him before he slept, having taken our positions thus we would talk and talk about every possible thing in the world and such nights would invariably be long. When it got very cold we would have a cup of tea and reluctantly retire for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank was very knowledgeable about the political developments local, national and international. He was an East African black from Ghana and had had basic formal education and was trained as a crewman in ocean-going vessels. For major part of his work life he had been in Hamburg, Germany when he was not sailing around the world. It was one of his many favorite statements “I have been to all parts of the world except Australia and New Zealand.” He came to India on 20th November, 1983 for the first time and had stayed back here itself though he had only planned a two-month trip. On the following 23rd was Bhagwan’s birthday and on the 26th He granted him an interview and that was enough for this spiritual apirant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On many occasions I had tried to learn more about his life before he came to Bhagwan. There was a girl whom we knew and he would say that I should marry her and I would say, “Ha! Frank, what about your wife? Where is she?” At that he would always brush aside my question and make a detour in the conversational topic. This always made me feel that there has to be a past that he tried to hide and possibly forget about. I still tried to rake into that hidden Frank and quench my curiosity. Once I argued with him on the issue that it is usual for people to come near Him when they have problems in their lives. “So Frank what had you in your life that brought you here?” I asked him. To this he countered vehemently and said that it was nonsense to have such a notion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We were good Christians. Our family. Attending the Church. Loving the lord. I got back to Ghana for vacation and happened to visit the Sai Center. I loved the Bhajans. Became regular in I my visits. And then ….one of my cousins offered me an opportunity to visit Prasanthinilayam. I had two month’s time to get back to Germany. I accepted. And then I came here. That is it.” Frank always spoke in short and crisp English. And what was most interesting was that he had had a vision of Bhagwan at his place in his country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the day, Frank was a busy man. With his usual gears he would be off to his field for a hard day’s work by 9:30 in the morning. He would dig, plant, water and tend to the flowers and grass in front of the co-operative stores and bookstall in the ashram. None ever rewarded him for all this that he had undertaken on his own in 1985. He had a tough time maneuvering the ashram authorities in Prasanthinilayam and he was praying for His guidance. He had a dream in which he saw Bhagwan looking at the dried up plants in Brindavan and say there is none to take care of them. That was His guidance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By noon, he would promptly cycle his way to the south Indian canteen for lunch. After an hour’s nap in the afternoon, he was back on his field for the rest of the day’s work. By 6:00 after a cup of tea, he would have his shower and be ready for dinner by 10 minutes to 7. When I was preparing for my CA Intermediate exams, we regularly took a walk to the south Indian canteen for dinner. He would without breaking the regimen have only two chapathis for the dinner. After the walk back to home he tuned on the BBC for 8 o’clock news and thereafter some soft bhajans or some devotional music. It was time for some reading and contemplation. Thereafter, time to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without fail, at midnight Frank always woke up, opened his door and brought out burning incense. He always lit diya and incense before the shrine in his living room and also loved to have them stuck in one of the Tulsi pots that he had in his front yard. Then there would be a midnight meditation session for about an hour. I was a regular witness to this because I burnt midnight’s oil for my exams. Even otherwise, I always enjoyed reading books late into night. This act of Frank always brought back picture of the Tibetan Lamas who wake up at midnight for their prayer service. I had only read of it in two books on Tibetan monks. I would pause my reading and ponder for a fleeting moment or so, what kind of devotion and dedication this man had . Coming to think of the mundane world, what a ‘drive’ he had!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Far away, in a land alien to him, Frank had come to live his life. I would be moved to tears on the occasions when he would say looking at Bhagwan’s pictures in His shrine, “I don’t need anything in this world except His love.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank was a friend I had of the kind I’ll never again have. This thought comes to me every time I think of him. There was a yawning gap in our ages, a gap of a generation at that. Nevertheless, we were the best friends ever. My friends always would say he is my ‘guardian angel’. He would always be protective of me. If I were going out with my friends on a Sunday evening, he would say, “Hey, come back you guys early. He has office tomorrow.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What endeared him to us all was the fun-loving nature of Frank. He had a reasonably good sense of humor and was good conversationist. He would find a common topic with anyone since he always was well informed on all popular topics. He was very helpful to any one who approached him for help. Before I got to know him, the frequent people at his door steps would be the foreign devotees searching for an accommodation or for the plumber or carpenter or electrician (even at midnight). After became his neighbor, the biggest group of help-seekers used to be my friends being fresh from college who were on the lookout for a job. He would take it on himself to find a job through the big network of friends he had in the city. He seemed to know everyone in the village of Kadugodi. He took delight in gloating over the fact that he knew all the people in Kadugodi from the time they were in their half pants and skirts. He would once in a while quip “If only I had known the local language, I would have been the mayor of Kadugodi.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard to a lot of stories from Frank. Whenever I came across allusions to Biblical stories in the books I read, the next time I was talking I would ask him to tell me the story and he would readily oblige. The one story I liked the most was the story of the last days of Christ. He beautifully narrated the sequences that led to the crucifixion. When I passed my CA Intermediate exams, he insisted that I call my friends on the following Sunday evening for tea. He had bought a nice cake, which to my utter embarrassment they all made me cut. The evening was beautiful and the memory of it evokes a mixed feeling of joyous sorrow. Life can be sweet even within your limited means if only you make up your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, we went out for dinner to a restaurant nearby. We had to force Frank to join us. The dinner was beautiful because of the company that we kept rather than the delicacies that were served. Towards the end of the dinner, I remembered the Last Supper and insisted that Frank narrate us the story. All my friends loved his telling the story. My favorite was the phrase he always used for Pontius Pilate excuse himself from the proceedings before the Roman Governor – “He summoned a bowl of water and washed his hands” which also symbolized washing his hands off the entire affairs. And sadly in hindsight I also realize it was the Last Supper we had with Frank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A word of consolation was something that I always looked forward when I spoke out my troubles to him. He said “Don’t worry, Swami is there.” A word of appreciation was also what I looked forward when I shared my success with him. He would say “Hey Venkatesh, you are very clever.” Possibly, this is the reason why I guess he was the best friend a person can have. It was always that he listened to things from me but never bothered me with any of his troubles. He never expected anything from me. Only he was against my moving to the city and which I forcefully did against his wish. Though I was not near him in his last days and moments, still I thank Bhagwan, that it was this which saved me from the troubles that I would have had in coming to terms that Frank is no more with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had enough troubles himself but Bhagwan was whom he confided in. He suffered for long from asthma. He regularly took doses of oral puffs and also injections. He had backache for long and had tried all sorts of medication. Added to this was that there was none to wait on him and take care of him. Never I got an impression that he ever missed them. He had overcome the attachments, loneliness and boredom in his 20-year sadhana. He had not been to his country even when the near and dear ones had died. He had all his relatives there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before Christmas, his cousin had come from his country. That Sunday, 21st December, Frank had escorted her to Prasanthinilayam. He had a beautiful Darshan and returned by evening. The Bangalore weather was still at its coldest at that time. Late at night, he went to a local doctor’s residence and taken a shot of injection. (He always carried the medicines with him and only wanted a person who could inject it) After that, he returned home. The next morning, early in the morning, he came out and happened to relax on the bamboo basket chair. I can only picture it in my mind how those last moments could have been. The pain must have only eased out when he let go off the body. (For he wouldn’t have breathed his last as the cliché goes as he was struggling for that very breath). The landlord later told me that when they found him he had a peaceful face. So too I saw peaceful Frank lie in the freezer in the mortuary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years ago Frank had met an astrologer who made two pertinent predictions about him. One was that he would have another interview with Bhagwan and that he would be in India for 20 years. Whenever he remembered this he would be indignant at the astrologer. He had never had an interview after the initial one in 1983. When the new year dawned, I began saying, “So Frank, it is already 2003, when are you planning to go back to your country?” I only meant it as a fun but that always would possibly give him a dig in his stomach (though he never remanded me for that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I heard the sad news, I was benumbed and for a while couldn’t realize what it means. But the reality struck me hard and I felt lost, orphaned and deeply bereaved. I wanted to get to Kadugodi and see what had happened. I rushed to my boss to take off for the day. He told me in a matter of fact way that I was free to go the moment at least one of the colleagues comes in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back to my PC and tried to concentrate and put in written language what had happened. I began to compose the mail:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;“Dear friends,&lt;br /&gt;We get to know people, love them and are loved……………………….”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S:&lt;br /&gt;Later that afternoon I had the opportunity to be off and had a great struggle to have a look at the corpse in the mortuary. A few weeks later, the body flew to Ghana for cremation over there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-110361549025399288?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/110361549025399288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=110361549025399288' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/110361549025399288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/110361549025399288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2004/12/heard-of-frank-kutsienyo.html' title='Heard OF Frank Kutsienyo?'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-108920180754329111</id><published>2004-07-07T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-07T05:14:20.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All about Sense &amp; Nonsense</title><content type='html'>"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down." &lt;br /&gt;                                           ~ Ray Bradbury&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"The big lie and monotonously repeated nonsense have more emotional appeal in a cold war than logic and reason." &lt;br /&gt;                                           ~ Joost Meerloo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When people are too open-minded it can lead them into being unable to discriminate between sense and nonsense." &lt;br /&gt;                                           ~ unknown &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Always remember, money isn't everything — but also remember to make a lot of it before talking such fool nonsense." &lt;br /&gt;                                           ~ Earl Wilson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want — an adorable pancreas?" &lt;br /&gt;                                           ~ Jean Kerr &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men." &lt;br /&gt;                                           ~ Willy Wonka &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Confidence in nonsense is a requirement for the creative process." &lt;br /&gt;                                           ~ unknown &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wherever you come near the human race there's layers and layers of nonsense."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Forgive me my nonsense as I also forgive the nonsense of those that think they talk sense."~ Robert Frost &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"To demand 'sense' is the hallmark of nonsense. Nature does not make sense. Nothing makes sense."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-108920180754329111?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/108920180754329111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=108920180754329111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/108920180754329111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/108920180754329111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2004/07/all-about-sense-nonsense.html' title='All about Sense &amp; Nonsense'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-108886611980544586</id><published>2004-07-03T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-03T07:48:39.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness</title><content type='html'>When the door of happiness closes, another opens;&lt;br /&gt;but often times we look so long at the&lt;br /&gt;closed door that we don't see the one&lt;br /&gt;which has been opened for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you have enough happiness to make you sweet,&lt;br /&gt;enough trials to make you strong,&lt;br /&gt;enough sorrow to keep you human, and&lt;br /&gt;enough hope to make you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-108886611980544586?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/108886611980544586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=108886611980544586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/108886611980544586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/108886611980544586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2004/07/happiness.html' title='Happiness'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7497012.post-108866087849607572</id><published>2004-06-30T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-01T00:45:57.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God Does Exist!</title><content type='html'>A man went to a barbershop to have his hair cut and his beard trimmed. As the barber began to work, they began to have a good  conversation. They talked about so many things and various subjects.  When they eventually touched on the subject of God, the barber  said: "I don't believe that God exists." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you say that?" asked the customer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist. Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick  people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there  would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving a God who would allow all of these things." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The customer thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument. The barber finished his job and the customer left the shop. Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a  man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and unkempt. The customer turned back and entered the barber shop again and he said to the barber: "You know what? Barbers do not exist." "How can you say that?" asked the surprised barber. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am here, and I  am a barber. And I just worked on you!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!" the customer exclaimed. "Barbers don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside." "Ah, but barbers DO exist! " answered the barber. " What happens, is, people do not come to me. " &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Exactly!"- affirmed the customer. "That's the point! God, too, DOES exist! What happens, is, people don't go to Him and do not look for Him. That's why there's so much pain and suffering in  the world." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7497012-108866087849607572?l=venkateshgblore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/feeds/108866087849607572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7497012&amp;postID=108866087849607572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/108866087849607572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7497012/posts/default/108866087849607572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venkateshgblore.blogspot.com/2004/06/god-does-exist.html' title='God Does Exist!'/><author><name>G Venkatesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08277941262518445663</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
