Smaller than Life
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Why a blog? Simple. Cacoethes Scribendi -- the urge to write! My literary pretensions and caprices bring me here. Like any writer I write to be read. All my posts, though fettered to my small world and trivially myopic, will live and yearn that somebody connects to them someday. Cognitive frenzies, sardonic musings, aimless banters, incoherent ramblings and trivial indulgences; this is simply an episodic narrative of my trivial world -- in a grain of sand… Smaller than Life.
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When I am dead, - Hillaire Belloc |
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The thoughts of our past years - William Wordsworth |
Yours Truly
Name: Dileepan Lampoon me at: panvista@gmail.comOn the Stands At Coffee Day Sachin in the school books A Comedy of Error Corrections! Developments... The Satisfaction of Blogging On Goodness The Don When the Jive went for a dive… Murphy's Law When You First Utter'd My Name Sheaves on the Shelf January 2011 December 2009 March 2007 August 2006 February 2006 November 2005 October 2005 August 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 October 2003 Buy my Book |
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Recruiting Trouble! I committed myself to a catastrophic blunder last weekend: It appeared -- why, it was almost evident -- that i2 had some vacancies to fill for which they were looking for B.Tech. freshers. I was instantly reminded of one of my schoolmates who had lamented to me about the difficulties of getting a job these days if one is not from the top universities. I had felt genuinely sorry for him. Thus, when this news reached me, in a fit of altruistic sympathy for my kindred schoolmates, I instantly wrote a mail to our school's yahoogroup debriefing them about the situation and instructing the interested people to forward soft-copies of their resumes to my email. I was amply rewarded for my gratuitous fraternising; my inbox was flooded the next day with all kinds of unsolicited resumes from all kinds of unknown sixteen syllabled names. I later deduced, circumventing some self-contrived encumbrances, that the asinine prick had forwarded the mail to all his college friends. Why he chose to all-importantly circulate this piece of information to all and sundry while he himself had to fend for a job amongst thousand others is something that I am still grappling with. But, to my acute consternation, I have also been left to grope with the very rationale behind presumptuously poking my nose in others' businesses and trying to do good! These days, I open my mailbox to find twenty new resumes everyday, not to speak of the aspirants' brave hortatory essays that would have done Martin Luther King Jr. proud. I envy the HR resource person who plays Soltaire on her computer everyday. Deluged by the disastrous entailments of my action, these days I am a nervous wreck whenever I see the cathode ray tube staring me in the eye. My life will never be the same again.
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