Ashok is back!

It has been some time since I wrote a book or movie review on Facebook ...

But now, your pesky & irregular amateur movie & book reviewer is back! It's not that I stopped reading or watching, it's just that I told myself that no one was interested, including myself. One reason that I wrote was that it helped me to remember what I had seen! Age. Sigh.

The truth also is that I have been spending more time peering at a screen than at a page. Being an avid reader was such a matter of pride for me that I started to feel ashamed of myself for reading less. I think I had started to suffer from ADD, which made it easier to watch TV & movies than read. I still think that to be the case.

To some extent I blame my job. In the past 2 years (almost), I have been overwhelmed by things to do. I think of writing my blog and I end up watching TV. I think of reading the newspaper & I end up checking my email. The hamster is well & truly on the wheel.

I have taken to loving my iPhone. I live in it. I read email & books. I watch TV. I read the news. I take pictures. I track my gym activity. I catalogue my movie & wine collection (why not my book collection?). I make a pest of myself by emailing news articles & pictures to people who have kindly given me their email addresses. I was even sleeping with it next to my pillow (sleep cycle app), but mercifully have de-addicted myself of that. The iPhone now sleeps 2 floors down from me. (It's called the battery charging app)

Oh yes, I also follow the Indian cricket scores and track all my travel & frequent flyer memberships.

Gosh, I have been rambling. Let's go back to the start and start reviewing again! Feel free to debate with me (Arvind Vijh and I had a lively one on "My name is Khan" in Twitter size bytes back in Feb), or ignore me; but remember that this is my review and my opinion is final!

I am sure by now our girls and my wife are thoroughly embarassed and can't wish me far enough ...

By the way, this note/blog has been written on an iPhone on a Continental Airlines plane between New York & Houston. It's a bit noisy to watch Season 2 of Damages on the iPhone and I don't have episode 13 of Season 8 of 24. Waiting impatiently for the next episode of Fringe Season 2 be aired. Kinda lost interest in Lost sometime early in Season 2. (Gosh, I have to watch less TV!)

Treacherous Territory Part 2

So it's been about 13 months since I wrote Part 1. I have been thinking of writing a follow up blog for a month now, so in my head it feels like a year has passed (and not 13 months). It's been an eventful year.

There is a problem. I am not an extrovert by nature, and even if I was, I cannot write everything that is on my mind without revealing company "secrets". I have to balance. I have to weigh. Who is my audience?

Well, we did decide to hire people and open an office in Singapore. We did decide to replace Patrick Cox when he quit. We did see Paul Brunner retire. And we managed to get office space in Singapore at the bottom of the market. If you had known the company 1.5 years ago, gone to sleep and then come back today, you will find it looking completely different. Even in the (now) outpost of Darien, CT there are changes (says he, tongue firmly in cheek).

I am now officially the oldest person in the company after Jim Amaroso (Gina does not count as we have officially agreed that she stopped growing in 1999). I am the problem solver. That is perhaps my main job now. The Board gives me an amazing amount of rope to hang myself with. I still have some customers but for the main part have stopped being involved in direct day trading.

All of the traders are weighing in and doing a wonderful job. We are all talking to each other. We are often on the same wavelength. We are young and react quickly to events. We are teaching each other to overcome emotions in trading. We have firmly re-established the Trammochem name. People call in and admire what we have done this year.

When I look at the performance data, I cannot but help feeling exhilarated. There has been a lot of sweat and sleepless nights and air miles gone into this; but the end result fills all of us with pride. I called RPS last night and congratulated him on the results so far.

But you know the saying: A trader is only as good as his next trade. We need to go on. We need to build further on the success of this year. We need to avoid hubris. A man's work is never done (to misquote the old saying). The decade is about to end and a new one beckons.

What's in a name - said the bard

Indians have the tendency to put other Indians in a box. The moment we meet another Indian and hear the name, our gray cells start to agitate a la Hercule Poirot. Rakesh Khurana, must be Punjabi. Aditya Mhatre, zaroor ghati hoga. Debasis Basu, eta to Bangali. Suresh Patel, hello gujjubhai! You can further believe that once we decide that the person next to us is a Punjabi or Maharashtrian or Bengali or Gujarati, a further slew of thoughts and pre-determined judgements of that community take over. Welcome to multiple "blink" moments of the Indian character. (Debasis must be eating fish every day)

I have tried hard to think, but cannot figure out why this is so. The only brainwave I had was that we are seeking to find comfort by having knowledge of the person we are talking to without asking any questions. If you read this and feel the urge to contribute, be my guest.

Did you know that hundreds of years ago, commoners did not have any family names? The ruling class prevented them from having one to stop them from banding together. Imagine that a bunch of Agarwals got together and staged a coup against the Gandhis? Well, there were no Agarwals at that time. Only Rakesh, Anil, Maya and others. Then they started getting names from their professions. Consider a village in England where there were 3 Johns. One had to become John Carpenter, one John Smith and the last John Taylor?

I have been living abroad for over 20 years and spared these blink moments when I meet non-Indians (I meet more of these than Indians). Indians that I meet tend to get foxed by my name. I guess Abhishek Kumar would have the same problem. It is hard to put me in a box on the basis of my name alone. Over the years, I have heard different types of questions as well as assumptions about my origin and "box".

Let me try and put this to rest. My name is Ashok Kishore. Kishore is my family name and I am the 3rd generation of Kishores in my line (Perhaps there were more, but we don't know any further back). My children will be the 4th. (If they continue to live in the West, they will not be faced with this question from other Indians.) My father's family comes from a town called Rampur in UP. My mother's family comes from Meerut in UP. Now, all you guys and girls, please put away your "blink" hat!

By the way, I am susceptible to this disease as well, even with Westerners. I know my Dutch from the Germans from the Spanish and so on. Tomorrow I may meet John Taylor and start to think: Hmm .. American, English, Aussie, Canadian (visualise me scratching my head)?

P.S. : Last week in Singapore, my nephew asked me why so many Indian first names started with A. His teacher had asked him. Obviously, I have a theory about this. I am full of theories. But lets hear yours first.

Treacherous Territory Part 1

I guess this question is very cliche-ed, but still needs to be asked before I try to write anything more: What does one do at a time (of economic crisis) like this?

The speed at which things have started to go wrong in the world has left my stomach in my mouth. And it does not taste good. Just over 3 months ago, I was riding on a high; having just taken over as CEO of Trammochem -- youngest Divisional Head in the company as well as the only non-white person to head a Division. Having worked here close to half my life, I thought I knew pretty much everything that happens here. I found out that I did not, but eventually that did not matter so much, since I am willing to learn and absorb. Visions of growth and ideas of taking the company to a new level fill my head.

It all seems to be going fine, until the economic crisis really hits. I am guilty of not realizing the import of a company like Lehman Bros go under. The meltdown begins. Naturally my personal portfolio is being hit really badly, but since I have consistently made the decision to increase equity in our house, we are not going to be wiped out by the market. I have also invested very little into the markets in 2008 and as long as I can hold my job, things should be fine.

But what about the workplace and the decision to hire people & open a new office in Singapore? Is this the right time to increase costs? The amount of business available in the world is declining and some of our competitors will go out of business. It is a crisis, the flip side of which is an opportunity for strong companies. How can I take advantage of this? What kind of message do I send out to the troops? How do we rescue and hold on to the money already made this year?

Such thoughts bother me. I sleep fitfully.

Holiday in Naturno, Italy

To blog or not to blog. Everyone is doing it so it's not really special. Yet it serves as a communication mode. How to categorize it? Family only? Work only? Public? What takes precedence over others? How serious is it? How regular? How detailed? Who is interested?

And why blog? Why not just talk to people you need to talk to? Why this Internet based communication that relies on your readers logging in and checking it out? It just sits there and you have mo idea if the people you intend to talk to have read it or not. Feedback may or may not come? Why bother? Is it an ego thing? Do I feel the need to tell the world my views and the events that overtake me because I feel that they (my views & events, not the readers!) are SO important? Or do I say "screw this" and abort?

Since I did start, let me carry on for a bit. I had taken some days off (needed a stress buster) but it was a case of all dressed up and nowhere to go. This is Monday the 6th of October.

A hunt for the sun finally led me to Sued-Tirol, after Lake Como, Neuchatel, Alsace, St. Moritz and others failed. (There was no way I wanted to fly anywhere!); thanks to my dear wife, who helped prompt this (Naturno, near Meran). Internet, query and I was on my way within a few hours with a reservation at one of the well known spa hotels in the region. Albeit only till Friday morning. Well what can one expect at such short notice during the school holiday season? Surrounded by vineyards and apple orchards, it's a welcome break from the city life of Pfaeffikon ;-).

Given the conference call that took about 30 mins as I was navigating the roads that the Lexus GPS did not recommend, it's a minor miracle that I did not get lost. Luckily I remembered about the car train and after that it was easy going. Absolutely spectacular scenery all the way. We are so lucky to be able to feast our eyes on this.

Question of the day; one of the 2 guards at the Italian border asked me how much the Lexus cost! The other guy lost interest in my much stamped passport once he saw that I lived in Switzerland. I could hear him mentally going "what the fuck" when he was riffling through my passport (so many visas and so many stamps!) but he did not put his fingers together and bring them close to his face!

So I get to the hotel and into a complicated parking maneuver and the phone goes off. I am about to get the best advice in recent memory but I just haven't realized it yet. I manage to park without scraping any edges. I want to slit my wrists to sell PX, but Stephane goes at the end of the call: "switch off your phone for 3 days and save your energy. You will need it when you get back to work next week." I am helped by the fact that my laptop's wireless connection does not seem to work. Yay. Maybe. Time will tell.

Since I am in time for lunch, I do the logical before heading to the sauna oasis. Yes the word is apt. The naked truth is that I do love to spend time there. But over the coming days I am gonna find that I am able to extend my stay till Sunday, eat some super food (does not beat Lenkerhof, though), be active, NOT read my mail (well OK there were some phone calls, but I don't find these distressing or stressful) and generally not have time to read or watch a movie. What I also soon realize is that not only am I the only single person here but also the only brown dude. I mentally put my fingers together, bring them to my face and hope that this does not work against me.

For some odd reason, the only way to stay on from Friday to Sunday is to move to the room next door which they say is exactly the sane. Yet I need to move. Komisch. I can't convince them. Mental fingers. Move on. Take the room.

Have occupied myself so far with the Sauna oasis, Nordic Walking, more sauna, a vineyard tour, pool and even more sauna. NW was fun and I want to do it again, but did not have the courage for the 5 hour trip on Friday. The 2 hours with a height difference of just over 200 m was worth it. Totally. Now to do it again, some time some place. The shoes held up. So did the feet.

Friday morning: OK the penny dropped. Room 306 is smaller as it does not have the sitting area. I am guessing that the other guests needed the pull out bed. The bathroom is bigger though. There is room to sit. And a shower stall. In any case, beggars don't choose, right?

Kneipp wandern (which was the alternative to NW) conjured up the image of pain, and since the cow at reception didn't have the foggiest idea of it's detail, I decided to give it a miss. I knew from some sauna experience that bare feet, stones and cold water could be involved. Let it go, yaar! Instead I got in my car and went places in the mountains. With not a single cloud in the sky, the scenery between 1200-1700 m was mind- blowing. An hour's walk through a nature park and it's time to head back and get pampered.

(Still haven't seen any brown dudes, by the way. Should I put some money on the chance that I will not?)

I haven't mentioned the food so far. It's pretty good. In fact, it's pretty damn good. Sumptuous breakfast. Lunch buffet. Gourmet dinner: Multiple courses, small portions, all very exquisitely done.

The people? Apart from a fat, stupid cow at the reception; they are all wonderful. As in very courteous & helpful. What more can one ask for? The NW instructor Martina (an Austrian) is gonna put up some pictures of me & Sonja on the hotel website. Sonja was born Korean, so the two of us together must have some novelty value amongst the other guests here! Martina has been to Rajasthan for an Indian wedding and told us stories about it the whole time.

Saturday the 11th. Woke up, got out of bed, (did not) drag a comb across my head ... Guess what? It's another day in paradise. Yesterday I was walking outside the hotel at 5 pm in my badehose & t-shirt. Today promises to be more of the same. I have the whole morning to kill before I go on to kill myself. I kind if drive aimlessly and park next to the Shreibmashine Museum in Partschins. There is a sign marked "wasserfall". I follow it, not having a clue what lies ahead. My step counter seems to be playing up but the T-touch tells me that an hour later I am at the waterfalls having traversed a vertical height difference of 400 m. Wonder why I am out of breath? The end has justified the means, though! It's wonderful scenery and I can't believe that I made it all the way up. I have basically walked up along the river to its source, pausing now & again to drink from it. Need to check later how far it was. Google maps?

I dread going downhill. Try & remember Martina's advice: lean back as if you are sitting down on your imaginary NW sticks. I must give the sticks the status of my non-existent Amex card. Careful. I am down at my car in a flash. Did I really walk all the way up? Unfit me?

This gives me courage to face the afternoon. Or does it? I am filled with doubt. At least it will end in good weather.

I finally know why I am blogging. It is to remember what I did. If someone reads it, fine. If not, that's fine too. By now the alert reader has realized that I am alive. And is probably curious. So cut to the chase and know that I went para gliding for the first time ever. Yes I am scared of heights so this needed insanity to set in first. Before my mental situation improved, I had called and booked the flight. After I landed on my butt, I knew that I had overcome a serious fear and was ready for another flight. Man, this was heady stuff. Have you ever run down hill and found that the ground just disappeared from under your feet? My pilot was Wolfi and he did a great job. All I did was get up to 2100 m and then run. Loved it! The hard work was dragging the equipment in 2 cable cars and then walking up the side of the mountain with it for about 10 minutes. It was way steeper than what I had done this morning! The sky was blue, it was about 15C at 2100m, the scenery was absolutely mind blowing! Impossible to put in words. Maybe the pictures will do it justice.

Sunday morning, full body massage and the driving back home. Question of the day: When can I come back?