15 Coach Local

Indian Railway system has its own woes and unique solutions which sometimes take their own time to mature. More complicated is the Local network of Mumbai which has no parallel in the world is what many claim though I fail to see why the issue of free passengers does not equal this to any other railway system of the developing world. Anyway, unique problems demand unique solutions and perhaps the mooting of a 15 coach train is very such attempt. We were just beginning to appreciate the 12 coach train when we are hit with a longer train concept. Any train commuter can swear that the 12 coach trains are normally amusing. Most of the time the indicator fails to communicate this fact. When the first coach is parallel to the platform, suddenly the announcer communicates this fact in a matter of fact tone making all commuters feel guilty. Well not all, mostly the women since their middle compartment does not stop at the same spot as that of the 9 coach train. That makes them sprint. This is the time we see miracle in action. The ones who limped to work late in the morning voicing their woes to ensure the late mark is not done out of sympathy, now find the energy and speed to rush to the spot of the women’s compartment. Some of the ladies already standing there display a smug ‘I knew it all along’ look of a mother-in-law as they daintily step into the compartment while the others come panting. I just wondered, if this is the unique sight offered by a 12 coach train then what scenes shall regale us in the future?

‘Is number of coaches or number of trains the answer?’ my son asked as he unpacked a computer game of a simulated city. I eyed the title of the game secretly and summarized that he must be more knowledgeable than most of the city planners. ‘Since it is mooted by seniors and experts, I am sure they must have thought of that’ I answered him. ‘I thought the Metro and Subway was the answer that the city planners were croaking about when they diverted thousands of crores of the budget to contractors promising us a breezy commute anytime of the day.’ I smiled with him as I too shared the same dream of a breezy commute. ‘Mumbai not being a circle or a square but a peculiar long shape has its own issues with the office area in the south’ I quoted an introduction from the World Bank report. ‘Tomorrow 15 coaches and after that 18…21?’ posed my son. ‘Given the limited imagination of bureaucrats, I expect so’ I told him. ‘Will there be no limit?’ he asked. ‘Did you not see the Dadar station ending at Matunga Road?’ I asked him. ‘You mean when the first coach is in the next station, the last coach is in the previous station?’ he was puzzled. Now my mind went into overdrive as I imagined the future scenario which perhaps no-one in the Railways may have contemplated. ‘Each rake has 3 coaches so the increase of rake increases the coaches by a multiple of 3 – is this simple?’ I asked my son who nodded in ascent. Now I had him agreeing with me so I went for the kill. ’15 to 18 to 21 to 24 coach train will be double of 12 coach train. When half the train is in Dadar the front half will be in Elphinstone road.’ I lectured. ‘But how will it stop?’ ‘Simple’ I answered. ‘Take the example of a double Decker lift. If you want to reach an odd floor, you catch the lift on the first floor while you those going to an even floor catch it on the ground floor. Those wanting to get down at Dadar for example will have to sit (stand) in last 6 compartments. When the train stops, they get down at Dadar while the front 6 compartments at Ephinstone Road will discharge passengers there.’ ‘and the middle 12 compartments?’ my son interrupted. ‘Those will stop at all stations meant to be used for those wanting to reach the Destination station only.’ I answered in utmost confidence.
‘I think you forgot how the train will stop at Churchgate’. My son pointed out. I gulped. ‘The first few compartments will be at Churchgate while the end will be at Marine Lines. Your Final Destination passengers will be in]between.’ He pointed the folly of my design. Not willing to give in this easy, I grasped at a straw, ‘The platform of Churchgate will be extended to cover the middle 6 compartments also and to ease the walking of the commuters, they will place walkways as they have in airports.’ My son mused for a moment and said, ‘instead of all this trains why not link all the stations with walkways and the people will just stand on the walkway and be transported to their destination station.’

Oops I did a CORUS

‘In hindsight, any person would have discovered India’ (America) is what Columbus was reputed to retort his critics who felt the lavish recognition bestowed upon him by the royalty for discovery of the new land was excessive. In today’s corporate adventurous journey of growth where very often we take the road less travelled or even walk where there is no path, the thrill of an explorer remains the same. Unfortunately, also similar is the attitude of the critics sitting on a picket fence not doing anything more than watching others fall, to give them an opportunity to mouth a venomous comment.

‘What will be the impact of this mistake of investment?’ my son asked referring to the front page headline. ‘With 30 to 40 thousand employees working in that company and thousands more in the support industry, the impact is more than just financial.’ I answered. ‘I remember you saying that when a smaller company takes over a larger company, it is trying to swallow more than it can chew’ my son surprisingly recalled my conversation in verbatim. ‘It is the British legacy of using phrases and idioms that distinguish us from other colonial cousins’ I reminded him. ‘Perhaps the origin of idioms and phrases was to ensure that we learnt from the mistakes of others’ I mused aloud. My son laughed, ‘However, I did show you some phrases which advice conflicting actions’. I smiled at the endeavor of man to search for those 10 or 100 or even 10,000 commandments of success. All theories in all disciplines whether it be management or mathematics, fashion or fitness, try to develop some rules which if followed, assure you success. Since nearly all of us do not achieve that, one of the conflicting rule is picked up by the critics as the one not followed by us, thus leading to lack of success.

‘Is dis-investment also an admission of wrong decision?’ my son asked reflecting his study of economics for the year. Many companies sell off divisions where they had diversified and not found success. ‘Oh you mean like the time the famous soap making company was booted out off their shoe-upper making division?’ he asked. ‘Or like the time a liquor manufacturer fell on his face marketing apple juice under the mistaken belief that both are liquids to be drunk and both have roughly the same colour!’ I continued in jest. ‘Should we then term all mistakes under the phrase, I DID A CORUS?’ queried my son. As usual, in our conversations, he evokes utterance of sheer confusion from me, so I gave in and said, ‘Huh?’ He educated me, ‘Webster Dictionary has recognized Google as a verb and the communication of I have googled you and not found anything relevant would mean that search of your name on the internet has not resulted in anything relevant for our present needs.’ ‘Oh so you want this new phrase to be brought into our Lingo?’ I was beginning to see the light.

We sat down and started thinking how we could use this new phrase. After all, it is the in thing to use the latest lingo - kind of a new abbreviation which only a closely knit group is aware of. ‘The Government did a Corus on most public sector investments’ reminded my son of the popularly known aspect of dis-investment in India. While ‘Google’ was recognized just as a verb, I feel that CORUS can be used as a verb, noun, adjective - anything.

Let us now foresee some situations and how the ‘phrase’ can be used.

Situation: Every married man.
What can be said: Oops I proposed a CORUS.

Situation: Each time a married man is caught with his secretary by his wife.
What can be said: Oops I dictated (pun on the pronunciation) a CORUS.

Situation: When you criticize a presentation to realize later that it was earlier praised by his boss. What can be said: Oops I blurted a CORUS.

Situation: When a man realizes too late that his fancy car is heavy on maintenance when the mechanic charges Rs. 1000 to just open the bonnet.
What can be said: Oops I am driving a CORUS. (not to be confused with similar sounding and spelt brand of any car)

Situation: When the husband has approved custom made jewellery which the wife does not like.
What can be said: Oops I approved a CORUS.

Situation: When the Romeo realizes that he could have romanced the younger sister instead of the less beautiful elder one.
What can be said: Oops I romanced the CORUS.

Situation: When sisters-in-law go to purchase sarees, each one feels the other’s choice was better.
What can be said: Oops I selected a CORUS.

Situation: You went into the software industry as it was paying astronomical salary…….. only until you graduated
What can be said: Oops I trained in a CORUS

Situation: You invest in a shop on a highway and within a month a new expressway by passes your section of the road.
What can be said: Oops I located in CORUS.

Situation: When the American soldiers accidentally fire on British Troops in Iraq
What can be said: Oops we triggered a CORUS.

Situation: American troops caught on tape torturing prisoners of war
What can be said: Oops we whipped a CORUS.

And of course the inevitable use of the phrase…………………
Situation: When any man invests in any share at the peak after which the market plummets
What can be said: Oops I purchased CORUS

When a leading industrialist having an army of professionals still commits a mistake, small people like us should also be forgiven. Perhaps by using the phrase we shall be reminding them why we should be forgiven!

STRESS TEST

‘Dad, I want to ask you about the stress test’ quipped my son one summer morning not too long ago. I began to sweat in addition to the seasonal heat and quickly looked around if my wife was listening. I had skipped my annual physical for the past two years and though there were others elder to me in the house somehow, I was made the butt of their reminders for annual physical while the others never ever did any. Realising we were alone I shushed him into silence, ‘Now don’t you start about my annual physical.’ He shook his head saying, ‘Not yours, I am referring to the US Banks which has scared the markets into the negative territory all over the world.’

Explaining the world economics when it is contemporary is daunting for the sole reason that the person explaining needs to understand it first. Bidding for time to think, I began as if it was an answer I had learnt during my school days. ‘Stress test for Banks is just like for humans.’ As I searched in my cerebellum or cerebrum for the next sentence, my son’s face lit up like that of an inventor at the point of success and blurted, ‘A Bank is a Company and a Company is an artificial person; so is this phrase of stress test personification or is it a transferred epitaph?’ He began with logical clarity but ended up in a question to throw me into confusion. How he connected English grammar beat the hell out of me. ‘Huh?’ is all I could muster. He explained, ‘I understand that that legally a Bank is an artificial person but who will do the stress test on the machine? As the Bank is inanimate, will the Directors have to run on the machine? If so, then that is the transferred epitaph’. I mused loudly, ‘Most of the Directors being at the age that they are, will not only fail the stress test but may experience cardiac arrest during the test.’

‘You mean all the Banks will fail the stress test?’ asked my genuinely worried son. ‘No son’, I pacified him, ‘this stress relates to the principle of how the Bank will survive the current health of their portfolio for which a white paper was already released.’ ‘How will they measure that?’ was his expected query. ‘A bit of balance sheet analysis’ I replied secretly hoping he would not ask for details. He thought for a moment and quipped, ‘It should be called it the BIKINI round instead.’ ‘What has a bikini got to do with Banks?’ I got almost annoyed at the track of his mind. ‘When we learnt accountancy, I read somewhere that a Balance Sheet is like a bikini – quite revealing but hides the vital parts.’ Stunned at the ironical reality of this statement I decided it was time to introduce him to the finer aspects of stress test to the level of his satisfaction.

‘The Government wants to find out how much of the loss the Bank can bear in case the probable losses become a reality’ I summarized in simplistic form. ‘Do you mean like the PBT?’ he asked. I was pleased that he remembered accounting acronyms. ‘Yes, the test is to find out whether the profit before tax is sufficient to absorb the loss.’ Son shook his head saying ‘By PBT what I meant was Pressure Bursting Point which we saw at the pipe factory you had inspected where a piece of pipe was put under measured pressure and they recorded at which pressure it broke.’ Now I shook my head saying, ’Those are tolerance tests which cannot be applied to Banks as there is nothing physical to measure.’ He was still confused as he commented, ‘You mean that to a non-manufacturing industry instead of a PBT we have Stress Test?’ Before I could reply, his face again lit up as he said, ‘Now I get it, STRESS is the acronym for the finance companies. I can warrant it stands for SIMULATED TEST RESPONSE to EVALUATE SINK SYNDROME.’ Surprisingly I understood his interpretation that the Banks are victims of epidemic during economic downturn and the illness that affects them is the sink syndrome by which the Bank sinks into losses and later, into oblivion.

‘Never heard of such a test in India’ commented my son. ‘We don’t need to son,’ I pacified him, we have the great supervising authority who releases circulars from time to time to guide the Banks onto the healthy path.’ ‘Anxiousness of the contents of the next circular must be giving the Bankers a lot of stress’ my son echoed the thoughts of a minority of Bankers who dreaded the circulars at the fag end of the financial year from the supervising authority. ‘No.’ I retorted, ‘I was referring to the prudential norms and capitalization issues which were taken care of by India 3 years before this crisis.. ‘Wow’ my son appreciated, ‘we are ahead of the west?’ ‘After all, the sun rises in the east’, I boasted.

WINE FLU

A Pandemic is tragic enough by itself. But when it is misunderstood, it leads to pandemonium which perhaps is more tragic as such was entirely avoidable. Not being a member of the scientific community, I often strayed away from all debates and discussions involving even the ‘S’ of science. How I was chosen to be the epicenter of the pandemic issue in Mumbai is still a mystery to me.

All I was doing was innocently sitting in the waiting room of my family physician when my cell phone rang. My concerned friend asked whether I had a serious ailment to which I replied, ‘Flu’. Out of the corner of my eye I noted all to go silent and stare at me as if I had some exotic sexually transmitted disease. My friend at the other end whose voice was not heard by others asked me why I got this frequently in the summer like others. ‘Wine’ I replied reminding him to my weakness of the fermented grape juice which has to be had in a low temperature. In summer, low temperatures create havoc with your tonsils and your weakness slides you into influenza is what I think the Doc told me once. So I joked to my friend, ‘Wine – flu’ as a summarization of my cause and effect. Before I could revel in the narcissistic moment of my briefest summarization, I saw the patients beat a retreat as if there was a live bomb in the room. The receptionist reached under her desk to fish out a surgical cotton mask as she admonished me for not declaring why I was visiting the Doctor. ‘Should I have told you I am sick?’ I was confused as I assumed all visited any Doctor when they were sick with the exception of some hardworking junior sales representative of Pharma companies. ‘Not just sick but since you have that flu’. I was still confused as I did not have any inkling of what flu I had. Perhaps if I did, I would have self administered medicine. I was in the midst of these thoughts when I saw the receptionist talking to the Doctor and then punching some numbers hurriedly on the phone.

Within no time, some men in surgical masks surrounded me, asking me to come to the ambulance. I peered over their shoulder to the receptionist who waved me out indicating I should go. ‘Which Hospital?’ I asked of the masked faces. He mumbled something which was muffled by his mask and I swore I heard he said Hyderabad. Since asking him again would result in the same incoherent words, I sat in the ambulance holding the available rods of the stretcher tight as he raced through the congested streets of Mumbai. Donning the dress and mask they gave me, I was surprised to step out off the ambulance not in front of any hospital but the airport. Not listening to any protests, they ushered me in a waiting army transport plane. It seems I heard right and it was Hyderabad.

‘When did you come from Mexico?’ one mask asked me in a place resembling a hospital at Hyderabad. I thought he confused Mexico with the other country of India’s most wanted terrorist. So I corrected him saying, ‘you mean Pakistan?’ He shook his head and told another mask, ‘we got a secretive one; call the army intelligence’. ‘Hey, I am an honest tax paying citizen and I even voted see my finger’ I said showing my middle finger. One mask who was writing everything said aloud, ‘patient gestured insultingly’. ‘Did you kiss any Mexican girl?’ the mask behind me asked. Now I started sweating as it started resembling interrogation chamber of spies and even some surgical instruments in the rooms started resembling torture instruments of the cold war era. ‘Kiss a Mexican? With a face like mine do you know what effort it takes for me to even get an Indian woman to talk nicely with me leave alone some foreigner and that to kiss???’ ‘So, YOU tell us how you got the SWINEFLU?’ asked one mask with authority. That was when I realized that my summarization of WINEFLU in the reception room back at Mumbai was misunderstood.

‘It had to do with cold wine not a swine’ I explained. ‘Mexican wine?’ one mask uttered. ‘Maybe Spanish wine’ another uttered. I was incredulous at their assumption while all they had to do was to ask me nicely back in Mumbai. ‘Mexican wine has no name internationally and now you will say it was Spanish fly’ I burst angrily referring to a movie where wine with Spanish fly made the wine an aphrodisiac. One mask punched an intercom speaker phone and said, ‘Sir we have another angle of complication. The virus survives in alcohol. We have new antiseptic issues here’. The speaker phone crackled with static, Get the antidote and you have a Nobel Prize waiting for you next year.’ The moment he said this, all the masks grabbed empty syringes and came menacingly towards me as if he promised them a pot of gold if they killed me.

That was the moment my flu symptoms surfaced after being suppressed so long by a more serious emotion - fear. As I gave a loud static of about 8 sneezes, the men in green masks fell back as if hit by Rambo’s gun. It took them 3 hours to settle the matter to realize that WINEFLU is no relation of SWINEFLU. They let me go; realizing perhaps that a single letter makes a world of difference. As I stood on the street that night in Hyderabad, I realized it was better for me to have admitted to the SWINEFU as now I had only few bucks in my pocket not enough to fly me back (my Doctor’s clinic was in the same block in Mumbai) and who would explain to my wife what I was doing in Hyderabad as she was bound not to believe the truth as you also have not. I have learnt from this experience that next time I am flying and I see my friend Jack in the same plane, I would not say ‘Hi’ to him as it would sound like ‘HI JACK’.