Saturday, 29 October 2011

Hair here, hair there

That filamentous material - Hair, is one of the key defining characteristics of the mammalian class. So much has been written, researched and practised in the pursuit of hair perfection.

It is also a conundrum, in that I for one, am a bit lost. There are people who will go to any length and depth to ensure hair is one of their outstanding and constantly evolving features. And then there are people who are particularly dedicated in the search and removal of hair. Of course, not to forget many of us, who have our acts set rather firmly on both sides, or should I say above and below the neck line!

From the bald to the bountiful, from the curly to the straight, from the roots to the cutting edges of a hairstylist's blade and everything in between, hair is the cause of much joy and sorrow. Poems have been composed and sung, films have been made and dedicated, even glorious work of many an art has been about the mane on top of your head.

What is it, with this obsession about hair? I recollect watching a rather interesting debate about hair, length, colour, texture, thickness, styles and more on a local Malayalam language TV channel, that I rarely switch to. The debate was heated, would be a understatement. Especially, with the female participants being very vocal in their views.

Trial pack received from Unilever
It is also a fact that hair and it's associated industries are worth billions of dollars today. When Indiblogger put up the contest, on a whim I thought let me try. Ever since, I actually received the 'Dove hair care pack' from Unilever, through a courier firm right at my door step I have been a bit impressed. Usually, courier firms have a problem delivering to my current residence, given that I am not living in a 'proper' city right now. Yet, for the first time ever, this pack was delivered. Nice job.

Unilever's marketing of Dove has been a major high point, apart from the product quality. The positioning using women who could be easily recognised as similar to the audience, talking about and attesting to the quality of the product has been maintained throughout the various ad avatars across media - both conventional and social. As a marketer, I have to give two thumbs up for not deviating from the positioning, packaging and branding over the years.

Back to the reason, why such products exist. We, men and women have at some evolving stage of civilisation realised that below the neck, hair is optional whereas above the neck, attempts to retain, maintain and style the hair is not optional. Not if we want to appear 'normal' and 'appealing', to both genders.

And herein started a tale that really has no end. Bereft of the thick mane by default, many a man has felt compelled to put up a removable piece of hair or go in for expensive hair transplant operations, just so, to feel normal. Yet, equally there are many men who have deemed to remove their beta-carotene based strands from the fields on their heads, altogether by choice. Each sort have made a statement about themselves.

Even today, in his sixth decade on earth, my father carries a comb in his pocket for 'styling and setting' his last remaining tufts and fringes of hair. Says a lot about how much it matters, doesn't it? However, it is the feminine species who have truly been at the cutting edge (pun intended) of the hair styling and caring part of life. Though today's metrosexual men are catching up fast, indeed.

From yoghurt, coconut oil, eggs and even beer to colourants, shampoos, conditioners, gels, masques and sprays - many such ingredients have been touted as the helpers and guardians of these tiny filaments, over time. I do realise that over time, our knowledge on caring and sharing has risen to great heights and that has, had an impact on how much attention we provide to our manes and more importantly to what others possess!   

Yet, sometimes I wonder in the daily grind of our lives, how much of a difference do the dead cells making up our crowning glory, have in the attempts of living a better life.

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This post has been written in response to Indiblogger and Dove sponsored 'Love is a two way street' contest.

Monday, 24 October 2011

The painful IRCTC experience

The world's fourth largest rail network - Indian Railways, moves millions of passengers every day.

Owned and operated by the Government of India, this network developed onwards after the British introduced the system in this country pre-Independence. Today, though it is as a requirement in terms of eco-friendly and cost-effective transportation in a developing country like India, it is sadly a striking symbol of a flailing system that needs severe broad ranging improvements. Be it quality of wagons, furnishings, rolling stock, reservation system or customer service.

About a few decades back, in tandem with the internet era setting through India, the Indian Railways also decided to set up a quasi-governmental body called the Indian Railway Catering and Tourism Corporation more familiarly known as IRCTC. Because of the strange laws that do not permit the Government of India to accept money directly from citizens, the IRCTC was formed and tasked with the objective of accepting bookings and payments.

I am usually among the first to take to new technologies. Like millions of my country men and women, I was happy about the new internet based ticketing and payment mechanism that had been introduced. Now, instead of going to a Railway station, standing in queue for hours, subject to the whims and timings of the ticketing operators, I could simply sit on my table, go on line and book as well as pay for the ticket. Complete electronic transactions, that were secure, efficient and painless. I spoke about this system in positive glowing terms to the rest of the world.

Yet, in 2011, my faith has been shaken by this system. This is my experience.

I had booked a 3AC (air conditioned three bunk sleeper coach) ticket from Madgaon, Goa to Kottayam, Kerala for 10 May 2011. Having returned to India in April, it was the last leg of a domestic trip that I was engaged in. And I was looking forward to a train ride instead of the normal flights, as a memorable event. Little was I to know, how memorably it would shape out.

When I had booked the ticket, the waiting list status had been in double digits. As the date of travel approached and my waiting list status changed to single digit, I was further re-assured.

The Dehradun - Kochuveli train scheduled to depart from Madgaon railway station at 2140 hours. As I had been residing at the northern end of Goa, it was not possible for me to spend time till later in the evening and reach the station. So, I arrived at the station by 11.30 AM in the morning. By the previous day, I had already checked and noted satisfactorily that my wait list status had become 3. High chance of getting confirmed. Yay!

On arriving at the station, I found out to my dismay that the 'link' between the computers in Goa and Delhi had developed a technical fault around 10 AM and therefore, status updates were not immediately possible. I was assured by the enquiry personnel that this should be sorted out soon.

So I waited. And waited. And continued to wait. By 8 PM after frantic running around meeting ticket reservation officials, railway station master and other assorted officials, I was informed that the technical fault has not been repaired. They were unable to even generate a chart containing the details of the passengers, including confirmations.

Obviously, it is illegal to board a train without a proper ticket. So I did purchase an ordinary ticket. Finally, on board the train, after a couple of stops a new Ticket Examiner arrived, who actually had a computer printed list with him. It indicated that my waiting list status was 1. He informed me that the list had been 'manually' generated and further assured me that since my ticket status was fully waitlisted, as per rules of the Indian Railways the ticket would be automatically cancelled and money refunded to my account.

Refund Information extracted from the IRCTC issued e-Ticket with PNR 2648159749

A whole night and some part of the morning - over 10 hours, spent standing near the entrance of a second class compartment was painful but stoically borne, given the circumstances. It happens. Next day, after reaching home, I called up the IRCTC customer care personnel, who on the phone informed me that as per normal rules, the refund would take place after 60 days from the date of travel.

65 days later, I wrote to the IRCTC. No response. Called. Finally was informed that there was a process called TDR (Ticket Deposit Receipt) that I should have engaged in within 35 days of the date of travel to claim the refund. I was obviously irritated. This had not been informed to me.

I was asked to re-start the entire mail communication. I did so. I continued to follow up. And repeatedly follow up. Finally fed up with the lack of a proper response, I made it clear that I was going to file under the RTI (Right To Information) Act as well as go to the Consumer Redressal Forum after informing Railway Board members and Railway Ministry officials. This elicited a response saying that they would file the TDR and process the refund.

After a 167 days since the date of travel and 82 days since I was promised a refund, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only response: concerned department will respond.

What a life!

Thursday, 20 October 2011

The Gap

There comes a time in life, when a gap happens. Sometimes by choice, sometimes not. This is the harsh truth, unpalatable as it may be. Especially if it involves your career.


The Gap

My last contract involved being the Marketing Manager for the Asian Beach Games, held in December 2010 at Muscat, Sultanate of Oman. Interacting and working with Asian nationals from 45 countries was equally a challenge and a pleasure. I was on board, till February 2011, wrapping up the post-Games reporting. I am happy to recollect that despite, being the 2nd edition only, of the Olympic Council of Asia owned Asian Beach Games, it was an astounding success considering the challenges. I was proudly part of a great team that made it happen.

Took me about a month more in Muscat to wrap up some of the personal and professional matters, ended up reaching India in April 2011. And where else to go, but back to the only place I could call home. So Kerala it was. While leaving my second home Muscat was painful, the initial few months, were heavenly, to say the least. By the month of May, the rains had started and reached a crescendo for the next couple of months. Wet, windy, cool, green - paradise on earth. Bettered only, gastronomically by the fact that my mother creates some amazing Kerala cuisines.

What a life! Relaxed, easy going, wonderful. Took the opportunity to sort out some family concerns which could only be addressed with my physical presence. Also travelled around within India and managed to make it to Hong Kong as well, which I wrote about here.

That broadband internet connectivity existed in this idyllic rural countryside was something I have mentioned in the Kerala post, recently. While, it ensured that I was not isolated from the rest of the world, even more importantly, it has also meant that I have been able to sit here and actually learn, interact, evolve.

Gasp!

Kerala has a rather high level of usually non-resident population. So, by now it has become the local norm that when the non-resident folk visit, first question is "when did you arrive?", immediately followed by a "when do you leave?" and this is where the first stumble happens - if you do not know when you are leaving. I usually try to bat it away by saying, have not decided. But that is not enough. No way. It has to be investigated, drawn, quartered and hung. Irrespective of whether I like it or not. All the way downhill. Throw in a dunking into the icy river, for good measure. No stopping this inquiry garbed in the robes of social civility.

So a full fledged oral third degree inquiry results in the answer of it has been a few months. I dare not say, 6 months for then the earth might as well open up and swallow me! And this leads to the inevitable gasp, immediately followed by a "how come?" question asked in a voice laced with concern or merriment or rather difficultly concealed scorn, depending on how positively / negatively and closely / distantly related, the person is to you.

Now, this is the moment of decision...
  • Flight or fight? 
  • Calm guru reaction or swat the pesky fly mode? 
  • Maybe a sophisticated explanation on the linkage, permutations and challenges of location versus break versus career direction versus choices? 
  • Or should it be a subtle but well aimed ironical attempt at 'it's not really your problem' communication? 
  • What about a full blown verbal shock and awe assault which would in all probability lead to complete and utter rest-of-the-life disengagement with that individual? 
  • How about a more honest reality check explanation combined with a request for help? 
...Gosh, so many angles and choices to make.

I usually take a path which is directly proportional to the relationship and comfort level I have with that questioning individual. If it is a friend, they get the friendly response. With the others, it is more of a 'thank you for asking, am in the process, will let you know when I know' answer that is bland enough to salvage some semblance of mutual respect.

So what next, really?

I am a marketing professional. I have used this break period to learn and engage more with the world through social media. I have managed to spend quality time with the folks. I have been able to help around at home. Individually, this blog has come alive. My posts, tweets and status updates are immortally out there in the ether. Sometimes even liked, enjoyed and shared. I have made new friends and re-established contact with old friends.

Combined with the management and marketing techniques that both Indian and British qualifications have instilled in me as well as skill sets evolved over more than a decade working in different countries and organisations, I am largely confident there is still much that I could contribute to making a difference. Maybe one of you could give me a lead. Maybe one of the discussions I am having will come through.

Meantime, I still do need to ward off my local inquisitors, wanted or not. What a life!

What are we really focusing on?

Are the words Trust and Faith , really just words or do they truly matter? These days, and most nights too, are really about nerve wrack...