Ten excuses not to brew potions

#10 - The iPod, the Airport Express and Homecoming

Recovering from credit risk since comrade IIMB-ian on the trading desk refunded Macau loan. Thinking about how to spend the inflow of Mandarin money in the light of country exit in the offing. Impulse buy of the Apple iTouch. Ripping the setup for iTunes out of the air on the way to airport while listening to Mandarin expletives from the taxi driver about Hong Kong traffic and expatriate travellers in general. The great download of Shrek 1,2,3 from the airport net, the conversion to MP4 and burning the iPod. Watching animated movies on flight and getting Mandarin expletives from the airhostess on refusing to respond to her calls for grub. Landing at Dubai airport and sending first emails from inside an aircraft. Laughing at my own kiddishness. Arriving home. Glad it's all over.

#9 - Thrifty or Spendthrift?

Waking up to the scary sound of the new alarm clock in my room. Looking around for people to go shopping for gifts with. Experiencing the all-time lowest of convincing skills. Breaking suitcase in frustration. Travelling to SOGO looking like the kid in Baby's Day Out. Nearly escaping death as the doors closed on the metro. Entering huge hypermarkets stacked one over the other with immense number of branded items all over the place. Hunting from top floor to base floor looking for a map of the place. Paying $1600 for a $2500 suitcase that sold for $4800 online. Perfume shopping with glamorous sales attendants and scenting coffee beans all over the place. Splurging the equivalent of 20,000 native currency on a single day. Feeling high about it. Dragging $5000 worth of items through a tram ride which cost $2 less than the usual $4 that it took for a cab.

#8 - The Review

The beginning of all the hype of the offers. The sole ride to Citibank tower from Island Pacific, where the only sound was the nasal Chinese voice on the radio. And Nattu chewing the proverbial apple. Tensions in creating presentation among numerous assignments from DC, DD and NP. Talk about how more work meant more interest and frustration should be an optimistic sign. Search for pseude presentation templates in the bowels of the computer hard drive. Loss of all templates found to other interns to be left stranded on the island of powerpoint with nothing but a laptop to give hope. Major fight in creating first ever template - with profuse help from God's own lands. Making the presentation with 4 hours of sleep the night before. Pat-on-the-back. Distress at seeing others getting more pats-on-the-back. Realization that it's all stupidity. Post-realization peace.

# 7 - The Great Gambler

Waking up to bad moods and the wrong side of the bed earlier than 9 am on a Saturday morning. The ubiquitous and condescending call from Subbu about how I was unwelcome at Macau and all that. Forced presence, nonetheless. Boat ride to Macau with Latheman, Topper and Subbu. Gaping at snaking bridges that go up and down and whose structures belie realism. Travelling by lift to the tenth highest tower on earth and trying to jump thence. Understanding how weather derivatives make money after plans were foiled. Hesitant entry to the casino at the Venetian. Gambling 20 cents with fellow RBS intern and converting it to $300. Splurging the three hundred and two hundred more on Sic Bo. Planning strategy with expected value greater than nought. Realization that trading on technicals makes no sense. Ferry ride back poorer and wiser. And crazier. 

# 6 - Payday

Getting the only spam email that is welcome - the paycheck link. Jumping with joy with comrade strategist on discovering we got a hundred and ninety dollars more in relocation allowance. Putting never-before efforts into using Bloomberg to convert HKD to INR and revelling at the rise of oil price. Speaking back home for the longest international call ever made, even as fellow interns spiritedly aviated over Lan Kwai Fong.

# 5 - Of dogs and babes

Trip with Puri and the rest of the Kolkattans to this cute little island. 50 year old expats, 25 year old local wives, kids and dogs. That sums up Discovery bay. Trekking on the mountains there. Fellow strategist rediscovering his farmer blood, and planting trees in Hong Kong. Walking back and sitting on the artificial sand on the artificial beach with artificial sea creatures floating about in real sea water.

#4 - The bull, the China, no shop

Accepting mementos all with the seal of the Merrill bull from "mother". Getting escorted out from the cool shelters of human resources by the business manager to the Strategic Solutions Group. Perusal by the Managing Director, and subsequent summing up. Discovery of the pantry, the internet and of how to use the phone. Meeting up with Kolkattan intern and fellow strategic analyst MK. Birth of the cynical banker here.

#3 - Flight to the Orient

Crashing down head first into the spacious Cathay Pacific seats, and taking in the stench of Subbu's nicotine abuse before dozing off. Waking up to find thin-eyed airhostesses pulling Subbu's neck to make the seat upright. Realizing that I had missed dinner, and breakfast, and lost everything that I had paid Rs 37000 for. Calling the airhostess for a glass of orange juice five minutes before landing. Listening to Chinese rebukes outside a martial arts movie as a consequence for the first time. Not liking it.

#2 - Mumbai Mania

Entering the Mumbai office with Subbu, Maggie and Mamta looking like a scene from Kaante. Discovering that Jayanthi Bajpai was a top guy at the company. Sleeping through his monologue. I am Prabh, and you can call me God, he said. Bending steel rods and walking on glass. Tonga-riding with five smartly suited B-schoolers from Marine Drive to the Taj. Realization that that was the wrong place to be, and the tonga ride back to the Taj President. Bargaining from Rs 500 to Rs 300, for a journey that would've taken us Rs 30 by taxi.

#1 - The beginning

Arriving an hour and a half late at the Mumbai airport. Walking out to find amazing buildings looking nothing like the dirthole we expected. Catching the worst possible taxi in vicinity. Fitting in 2 huge suitcases into the dikki. Chal jaayega, bhaai saab. Travelling at 100 kilometres an hour, and reaching the Taj in 40 minutes flat. Getting out alive.

To You, with love

Dear Man-or-woman-who-lives-above-the-clouds

Everytime I write to you the letter never reaches you because the post-office uncle thinks I'm mad. So this time I will write to you through the latest thing people have come up with - the internet. This time others will read it - and you will therefore HAVE to reply.

So how's it up there? Doesn't it get lonely and cold up there? Well, yeah, you built this place, so there's nothing to say you didn't make a jacket for yourself. But still, sitting up there and looking down at us? That would make me dizzy.And maybe bored...I don't know.

Guess you're managing all those pantheons of "big" gods and "little" gods we believe in as well. You should really write to me about those sometime - are they like delimited? Oh - I haven't told you - it's a software term. What I meant to ask was whether gods are restricted to airspace and they're not allowed to violate each other's property. It'll make a lot of sense to us if you tell us how that politics across space works - because many times we think of you and your support system up there when we're abroad and we're in some trouble.

I don't know you. No, I don't mean that I have not seen you or whatever, but I don't understand how you work. That is, assuming, you're the same person who I think of when I'm stuck in a traffic jam and I'll get fired if I don't make it to the office on time. Assuming you're the same person all of us think of when we're living on the edge, and wishing we could just jump off. And assuming that you're the same person who responds time and again.

Let me ask you something. They say you know everything. They say you're the one who decides our fate. Then I don't get what joy you find in making little dolls with flesh and blood, making them suffer and then killing them to recycle and send back as people who don't suffer and therefore commit sins. Haven't you had enough seeing this for 200 decades at least?

OK. Granted that one year of yours is like a zillion years of ours. Still, do you get a kick out of making people suffer? There are so many people with broken bones, broken heads, broken legs and broken hearts. So many people who talk of successful lives - personal and professional. And so many other people who see these people and rue their unsatisfied lot. Why, God, Why? Why this insufferable passion to see us suffer and crave for mercy? Why this somnambulist existence where we can't even see you and our minds are in handcuffs?

It's just not fair. Definitely not when the things we think are beautiful, marvelous, spectacular - are just glances of your time. Just miniature events that everyone forgets. You don't even get to take souvenirs or photos like in a tourist trip. Hell, we don't even know when or where we're going next. Why this uncertainty? Does that also have a purpose like the rest of the things you do?

But whatever - I'm here because put me down - and I'm gonna do things that make me happy. Because I like to be happy. Why? Since it makes everyone around me happy too - and you like to see people similar to you. In fact is that why you made us in the first place? Do you have other Gods at your level, all of who make universes like this? And do their universes have people too, to worship them? Are all you Gods in some competition to have the best universe around or something? If yes, is there a Super-God who gives you that prize? Just some food for thought.

Awaiting your reply,

Yours religiously
Kid-who-lives-on-the-land

Of Crouching Tigers and Hidden Dragons

Perhaps the most interesting thing about my 30-day experience on Mandarin lands is the language barrier. Having been an insufferable-crib-about-it-all co-intern, the Midget Rogue isn't really wearing all tinted glasses. Of course, notwithstanding the tinted glasses on my room - which incidentally guise the typhoon signal 3 outside, I realize the invariable reality - I cannot go out today, and hence I must blog.

Not before I give my clothes to the laundry, I decide. I force myself out of bed and pull out the laundry cover from the hotel cupboard. The pile of clothes that has been growing over the week, is quickly stuffed into the miserable excuse for a bag. I pull out the hotel key card (which of course is more importantly my sole source of a Chinese address) and walk out of the room.

The door knob has hardly turned when I realize the housekeeping staff is here.

"May uh?" She asks.

"What?" I ask back.

"May Uhhhh?" The nasal tone is irritating.

It's 5 minutes before she shows me a card that says Make Up Room.

"After lunch". I say. This is the only problem with weekends - you're there when they clean up the room. As I go down from the 16th floor, I wonder how I should really be staying at the 61st floor, given the fact that buildings seem to compete for height around here. Man, what is a Midget Rogue doing round here?

I look around for some sheltered footpath that would take me to Curry Kings. There it is. Long thin way next to the toy shop. Happily I cross the roads and scuttle along the walkway, till I begin to see the toys moving on their own. Oops...I must try to distinguish toys from meat. Amazing reptilian delicacies. And with no clue what's gonna happen to them. I stand by to see what'll happen.

Old Chinese Woman: [incomprehensible Mandarin]
Butcher : [incomprehensible Mandarin]

The butcher raises his knife. I move away to avoid the shock. It is at this point that I realize that this is so profound an experience that it deserves to be recorded in more spontaneous moments and photoblogs.

With a call to the reception, I yell.
"Can.....you......tell.....me....when ....the ........next......shuttle.......to............Tsim Sha Tsui .........is? And......whether.......it.......will........run........in........this weather?"
No, he doesn't understand. I go out and punch the elevator button.

Unmaad - the tenth emotion

So why on earth, is Unmaad the tenth emotion?

As most people in IIM interviews would say, the bravado at IIM is here to innovate, and innovate they will. Nonetheless, I don't believe that there is a tenth emotion. What there is, really is a certain mix of all these emotions, and the marketing-savvy PubCommers at Culcom are really branding this as a fresh one. Sample this, for instance.

Courage - what the guys at IIMB actually gather so that they can show a "Home Team" in all events despite the terrible schedule.

Pity - of the DOSA (Dept. of Spectators and Audience) at the poor wannabe culcommers who have graciously volunteered for a resume point.

Fear - of the vols and of lesser culcommers of incurring Jiddu's wrath

Anger - When one of the vols shows absolute ignorance to one of the guys carrying walkie-talkies - and the latter is left clueless

Sorrow - I really don't know what to put here, the only place you'd see sorrow in Unmaad is when drunken guys go all senti after the L^2

Happiness - when Unmaad finally ends and Culcommers can direct their slogging energies either towards placements or mid-terms.

Wonder - that Unmaad has actually happened, despite everything the DOSA guys said.

Disgust - of yours truly at having written the first of a series of "1 posts"

Serenity - when people like yours truly are done for the day and have nothing better to do than sleep

There you go. There's your tenth emotion.

Bass! Snare! Drum Roll! Crash! PHOOTAGE!

The crowds go up in cheers even as Choombuck ascends the stage and sets the guitar, as Laddoo and Venkat do their thing with the bass and lead guitars , and of course as Varun tests out the crisp Yamaha drum kit.

Oh yes, it's Phootage to the L^2 stage, and boy! is the crowd enthu? There's obviously a good lot of mike setting and volume twiddling that happens (it's what they call "setup time" in such contests). Their attire is largely misleading, especially for someone who's never seen them perform. Prasun with his uncombed hair, Sood in the shorts, and Venkat in what my grandmom would only describe as a fisherman's banian. Laddoo of course, in his glasses and sombre look, seems absolute maggu. (Yes guys, I know you're going to kick me next time I'm in the music room, and no guys, I'm not going to mind it. 'Cos you guys rock.)

The beginning is strange. Almost under par. Prasun walks up and says "Welcome to iimb. Now we'll start." And then it begins.

There you go. The medley of Choli ke peeche kyaa hai, Kali Kali and Naagin - mixed to western rock - which Phootage has kinda composed on its own and endearingly termed "Choli ke Peeche Kaali Naagin" rocks the crowd. Not just the home crowd, but the visitors as well. Everyone's going crazy dancing. A special mention must be made of our own Matthew who with his Joker hat and dance - was the treat of the evening for all fachchas.

That was followed by "Feel" and "Sex me up", both of which were done so professionally that it is only when they say "The next one is the only Cover we will be doing" that we realise it's their own composition and not just some rip off. The show ends with a lovely performance of Toxicity which sees the crescendo of Phootage in this college. Hats off to you guys - you've made Unmaad worth living for. Hope to see you guys perform at the 11th, 12th, 13th and all future emotional Unmaads [:D]

And yeah - as a budding fachcha in the Muzik Club - I must say this to go on record. These guys have been an inspiration to all of us Phootlets - if we could perform one tenth as tight as them, it'll be a day worth living.

And yeah - here's a link to the video these guys created....on youtube

http://youtube.com/watch?v=oAS54lU-8Ms

Next Unmaad post on the Easterns...coming up shortly.

Where do we go?

So yeah. My blog's been down on the activity for a good amount of time now. Why, you ask? Well, large number of reasons, least of them not being the summer placements. That got over, and of course the post placement euphoria studded with trips to Mysore and Wonderla. And now life's back to normal. A life studded with minor yet significant events. A life that's a roller coaster and full of colors - all you need to do is to keep your eyes open and see the colors rush past you.

We are, at the outset, students. Why do we study? To gain the oft-quoted highly priced and respected knowledge. We work hard for entrance exams, and in our enthusiasm, do courses that claim to give us value addition. We continue to work hard,and strive for figures that exalted masters consider apt descriptions of our calibre and greatness. We sit through assignments and submissions that make us not just reflect on the subject that we study, but on how well our co-students are able to understand the same.

Where does this come from, the strange nature of this quest? Why do we always compare ourselves? Why is it that every time we run a race, we need to have people lose to us? What is victory? What is failure? Why is it that we do not satisfice even when we perform to our best, but we are exhilarated when we beat our competitors even at the cost of underperforming? Is that the reason we are here? To beat people and feel happy about it?

The road doesn't end here. It doesn't stop at scoring marks, scoring grades, securing jobs or even securing promotions for that matter. It's like an endless path, a maze, a craze. Sometimes you do well - you're in form. But sometimes, you don't. And what happens then? You cry. You fall down into the scum of the earth and wish you could bury yourself lower. A friend of mine had a quote to say that I found interesting - "I love walking in the rain because no one can see I'm crying." That's how it feels to be on the receiving end.

And so the road carries. The infection spreads from career to every other sanctified and revered walk of life we may have - friendships, relations, even our own selves. It happens all the time. You help your friends make up after a stupid fight, and suddenly now you're feeling left out and lonely as they're all over each other. You sit in a team of people with a common aim, a common goal - and the filthy head of what some of us call ego rises. Sometimes you even try to be the bigger and better person - a so called domination of the angel over the devil in you. And when that happens you feel cheated, unjustly treated - by the fact that you don't get paid for what you've fought.

We dream of success, of love, of friendship. We wish for a Utopian world where all and sundry are good and kind. And yet to achieve this end, we are ready to sacrifice all notions of fraternity and friendship - a paradox in itself. We dream, hope, pray. Who we ask, from the world of strangers we meet on the way will hold our hand, drag us out from this mire, and redeem us.

Summers in Winter

I'm back. Back after a long time - I should say. And in the meantime, life hasn't exactly been a roll...Though one of the pluses I can derive from this break is that my blogging loyalties were pledged elsewhere - click here to see that. And all for a free T-shirt and some very informative and entertaining events at the B-school to be!

So what's new?

Term -I at IIM Bangalore came to a rollicking finish - perhaps what was most intriguing was the intensity of emotion while bidding our friends adieu for a miserly one week vacation home. Speaks volumes about the kind of bonding that the pressure and work here can create. Term - I results? Don't even think about it - don't know, can't say - think of it as the proverbial phi in the Karnaugh map.

Term-II at IIM Bangalore began with a bang, with the enthusiasm for summers preparation overflowing. All you here these days is "Yaar, consults ki prep kase karoon", "Chal be case karte hain", "Acads ko maaro goli, summers aur ppo maaro, phir aish karte hain", and many more similar dialogues that would have put Jai-Veeru to shame. Needless to say, similar taunts populate the information highway on the intra chatting client.

Of course -there's been the intermediate relief - the relieving sunshine that peeks through the clouds to smile and ask you to make hay before it rains again. Foundation day happened and was a lot of fun - with the entire music band performing impromptu - and doing a good job too. Vista, needless to say, was its usual self with tremendous footfalls and amazing talent on campus.

But back to the summer of '07, and we realize how much we've changed over the past few days. Most of us have doubled up our typing skills writing about ourselves and editing our resumes. It's been amazing the way we've learned to check out a company, see its values and traditions and do a research on it in five minutes flat. With the horde of resume submissions to do, and company presentations to attend, it would be a lie to say that life is relaxed. But it's been memorable.

So long, see ya.

PS: Incidentally, some people were curious about "that Ecstasy thingy" - :P so here are the links of the youtube videos of our music band playing for those who're interested.
FUSION
SAYONEE
KANDISA

Weekend cries !

And finally Friday ended. Not the way I would have liked to, but it did end ! Friday's always a welcome day at B-school, albeit different reasons for different people. Some like to hang out with their friends, having escaped from the rigors of an 8.00 am submission the next day. Some like to study the week's portions, anticipating a test the next week. Some people are still more paranoid, studying the next week's portions ahead of schedule, so as to be prepared for a test in the next-to-next week.

And there are people like me. Who dread the next morning's exam on managerial communication, and who do not neglect its importance because, after all, it's a two - credit course.

Not because we're overly bothered about topping the class. But just because this is our last attempt to salvage pride. Pride of being in B-school, pride of clearing CAT, pride of a thousand things. So the Friday goes off, fairly unproductive, save mugging the format of a business proposal (if I remember, the text's exact words were - "Though the importance of marriage/divorce proposals cannot be undermined, the textbook shall limit its scope to academic and business proposals. ")

Saturday morning. I wake up to the sound of the paper dropping on my doorstep. And to the stifling odor of Good-night spreading through the fan-less room slaughtering a thousand mosquitoes in its wake. So much for all the malarial paranoia. In all earnestness, I wipe my whiteboard clean and write down all that's pending over the term. All submissions, tests, exams. Even the biz-fest events that I've committed to participate in, God only knows why. I sit back with a smile, not unlike the way Saif Ali Khan sits watching his dad and sis's pictures on a wall coated with Asian paints. (that's a popular Indian ad for those who are still wondering if I've gone nuts).

Then I suddenly remember that the exam's at 2.00 pm and sit down to study. Reminders of how I used to practice "Formal Letter" and "Informal letter" in class VI come flowing in. Why, oh why, is it so hard now ? It used to be so unbelievably easy back then. English was a subject that made you earn brownie marks and raise your average if you did badly in Social studies or something. Now, it's the other way round.

Amid such thoughts, and more, I manage to complete the exam. We receive our feedback at the end of the exam, and a chilling shudder goes up the spine of men who hitherto considered themselves gods. Some people did badly. Some did worse. But the chosen few, who did cross 70, jumped their way back to the hostel. And I, was not among them. Yet another "Aam aadmi" exam.

Saturday night ends on the same ambitious note as the morning began. Only this time, the list on the whiteboard gets longer, as your neighbors ungenerously remind you that you've overlooked three or four tests and the resume verification due next week.

Sunday morning finally arrives. It's probably a time for celebration, you think. But with the grim feeling that the grades dished out the previous day, you decide that the final presentation in Managerial communication that is due Tuesday, deserves more respect and effort than you envisaged it would. Especially since it's now your only chance to gain any leeway in this subject, and all your life you've claimed to have the proverbial gift of the gab. A line from "Snapshots from Hell" comes to mind - "Strangle weaknesses. Strengthen opportunities."

And then Parkinson's law takes its toll. Work expands to fill the time available to complete it. You never know how time flies. It's 2.30 pm, you've missed lunch because your friends tell you the food in the mess is pathetic, and anyway there's just too much rush with all the exchange foreigners coming in. So we order food from outside, and somehow you're never happy with the quality of the food. The grass, as they say, is always greener on the other side of the fence.

You return to your desk to find that your presentation is nowhere near completion. An exaggerated sense of urgency grips you, and your fingers tap away on the laptop till they're comfortably numb. Finally at around 10 pm, the P.P.T.'s done, and you lean back with a sense of accomplishment. "Substantial", as my neighbor would call it. You turn around, and you see the whiteboard in a position where you can rub nothing off your list. The same list that gave you pride and inspiration last morning, now gives you a sense of revulsion mixed with cynical philosophy. Stomach wildly heavy with the naans and rotis that you hogged for lunch, you just crash onto the bed, with nothing to fight for.

Monday morning arrives, and you realize you're no better off than Friday. If anything, you're probably worse off. If you've honestly been reading this putting yourself in my shoes whenever I wrote 'you' instead of 'I' or 'me', you'll understand what a weekend at B-school is.

Unenviable, says Collins, is the right word.

Humiliation

So I'm sitting in my class at IIMB, feeling smug seeing my nameplate on my desk - it's actually got my name and roll number on it - and basking in the glory that is IIMB. Basking in the knowledge that this was what a 2 lakh people wrote CAT for, and this is fun...being here, doing this.

And of course, I'm totally oblivious to what the prof's saying - something about Greiner's model of organizations' birth and death. Ughh...it's irritating sitting in a class like this full of inactivity and not doing anything save listen. So I took this pic. You can't see me, of course, but you can see how most of the class is dozing off. You can also see my yellow highlighter on the table and that's there because I wasn't using it; so my neighbour decided he would play with it. Fine. So much for a regular class.

Out of the blue, the lights go out, and there's this wonderful movie that our professor plays about Aravind Eye Hospital in Madurai and how they're creating waves with the good work that they do. The video is moving and inspirational. My friend remarks, why can't such movies hit Inox instead of flicks like Chak De. Yeah, interesting, I think. Get SRK to be a doc, and 16 nurses, and bam! you have a blockbuster. Some movie, huh?

Anyway, so the movie's over, and everyone is visibly moved including the prof, and so we go on to the rest of the lecture. It's what follows that probably made this one of my most memorable lectures; I just hope I remember it for all the right reasons. (italics reflect my thoughts)

Prof: So what happens in an organization when you get a fresh set of employees or people and make them adjust to the vision of the company.

Me: Does the fresher really have a choice? Hell, he wouldn't paid if he didn't stick by the company. So he'd work, what else?

Prof: This is probably best studied in light of the IIMs themselves. Now apparently, this top level institute in India (I'm not taking names, so that SMC can't sue me for being politically incorrect) follows a process called Unfreezing, Change and Refreezing. Unfreezing is the most painful process of the three. You guys come as cool cats, with the mentality that you've done it all. And so you're hardly ready to learn anything, let alone get transformed into something greater.

Me: For the first time in an MO lecture, I'm actually attentive. Hell, this guy seems to be speaking to me!!!

Prof:And so, the first term is deliberately made so hard, with so much workload that even the best of students can humanly not cope with it. And say by the end of term, you actually start questioning your own abilities.

Precisely what we freshers were bitching about last night in the Dukh Baanto session in my room. Oh, for crying out loud!!!

Prof: And the system makes sure that even the best of students ends up with at least a couple of D's. By when the student is brought down to his knees, and he actually starts accepting that he is not the supreme master and commander of the universe. There's more to learn. The process that follows, is called change and refreezing that inculcates stuff into the kid, and makes him strong.

Somehow reminds of a documentary on Kung Fu I was watching a couple of months ago. But yeah, it feels nice to know that we're falling right down your trap.

Prof: Just remember that the harder and more painful this process is, the stronger your alumni network will be. And yeah the bottomline - do not come to me if you end up with C's or D's. Just take it in your stride.

Wow, some way of putting it, that.

What's with a little extra jammin'?

It's three in the morning, and at this unearthly hour I've just gotten back from the recreation room doing perhaps what only Palash Sen or Raghu Dixit would appreciate - jamming. We have our intra Bangalore cul-extravaganza today, and our show's at 9.30 am. I'm back in my comfort zone to catch some well deserved sleep. I can't even believe I'm tapping out this blog - so tired are my fingers from playing Tabla, and my biceps - they've already given way twice.

OK - that was more of a euphemism, but yeah, the kind of dedication that these guys have out here is amazing. At like 1 in the morning we're all irritable, and frustrated because we're getting the odd beat wrong, and any suggestion for changed is met with snobbishness, not out of being stubborn, but simply because we're too pained from having to play since 5 pm and we're not there yet.

And still, we carry on. Putting fight, as the IIMB lingo goes. Here's to a successful Ecstasy!!!