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ashokbhatia

Amongst other things, you also get paid for keeping your boss’ blood pressure under check. Pity the poor over-stressed guy and update him before he thinks of any project assigned to you. In other words, meet him halfway through.

If it is getting delayed, or worse, not getting done at all, make him an accomplice to murder by keeping him informed in advance. In case you are likely to meet your target, present him with a draft report/outcome much before the deadline.

(Excerpt from my book ‘Surviving in the Corporate Jungle’)

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ashokbhatia

bellcurveThe pre-dominance of the Bell Curve in performance appraisals has never been in doubt. It recognizes the fact that all people are not identical, the tasks assigned to them are different, and the environment they operate in need not be homogeneous. All organizations have their share of high performers, free riders, under-performers, and downright deadwood.

A well understood Bell Curve principle is about building meritocracy and practising a differentiated rewards strategy. It has its own limitations, especially in highly innovative outfits. However, it keeps the bar high, thereby helping an organization to scale greater heights.

(Excerpt from my book ‘Surviving in the Corporate Jungle’)

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One often wonders as to why nature has stopped playing an important role in Bollywood songs. Perhaps, themes have come to represent the urban lot, and are no longer village-centred. Moon no longer gets compared to the face of the beloved as frequently as it did in the past. The gentle rustling of soothing wind has all but vanished from our soundtracks. Shimmering waters of a sea or a lake no longer excite our lyricists. Snow-covered mountains make a rare appearance. The soothing sounds of nature have got replaced by metro screeches, car honkings and trains trudging along.

Not to fret, though. Here is a brilliant post from Dusted Off, which takes us back in time, right into the warm embrace of nature.

Dustedoff

Several years back, poet, friend and fellow Sahir Ludhianvi fan Karthika Nair and I were discussing Sahir’s poetry. After a while, we arrived at the conclusion that, while everybody acknowledges the brilliance of Sahir’s more revolutionary poetry—of the Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye or Chini-o-Arab hamaara—and some of his more angsty and emotional lyrics (Chalo ek baar phir se, anyone?), many people tend to overlook the fact that Sahir was also one of those poets who could describe nature brilliantly.

When I mentioned having studied Pighla hai sona in school (it was in our school textbook), Karthika remarked that, in that song, “nature became an active agent, not a landscape.” That reminded me of a theme I’d been toying with for a long time, for a song post. Songs that celebrate nature, songs that appreciate the beauty of nature. Nature or an aspect…

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Advertising

ashokbhatia

Advertising

As a Chief Executive Officer, if you hire lions like Pablo Picasso or MF Hussain to create a corporate emblem for your company, would there be any point in getting a bunch of giraffe Vice Presidents and General Managers to meddle with his final work? Define a target and a budget, and let the agency have a free hand.

As a trainee cub, join an ad agency if you love irregular working hours, midnight escapades and hobnobbing with the hoi polloi of creative geniuses whose king (or, queen) size egos need to be managed at all times, with clients’ deadlines looming large over your work horizon. Depending on your skill set, you may gravitate towards copywriting, production, media planning, or client servicing. In all cases, creativity under pressure should be the motto of your life.

(Excerpt from my book ‘Surviving in the Corporate Jungle’)

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My Views On Bollywood

By

Sharada Iyer

On September 21st, 2019, I had the good fortune of watching a brilliant play titled ‘Devika Rani: Goddess of the Silver Screen’. Written by Kishwar Desai (whose book on this incredible screen diva will be released next year) and directed by the talented stage veteran Lillette Dubey, the play brought to fore many significant and hitherto unknown incidents in the personal life of Devika Rani who was indeed a trailblazer of pre-independent Indian Cinema.

IMG_20191025_091217__01The play roughly covered around 18 years of Devika Rani’s life from 1926 to 1943- approximately from the time she met her husband Himanshu Rai to the last time she appeared on the silver screen as an actress. Lillette Dubey’s daughter Ira Dubey who reprises the role of Devika Rani comes up with a memorable performance and also does a fabulous job of singing the famous song – ‘Main ban ki

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The young reliable Honoria Glossop can always be trusted to come up with a scintillating tribute to P G Wodehouse, especially on the occasion of his birth anniversary!

Read on…..

 

Plumtopia

PG Wodehouse was born on this day, 15 October 1881, in Guildford England. I make no apology for mentioning it each year as an occasion to celebrate, because, as his latest biographer Paul Kent puts it:

…his 100 or so books must represent one of the largest-ever bequests to human happiness by one man, at least in literature.

in Pelham Grenville Wodehouse Volume 1: ‘This is jolly old fame’

Five of these gifts to humanity were, like Wodehouse himself, also published on 15 October – in four different decades.

1925 Sam the Sudden montage1925 – Sam the Sudden

Published on P.G. Wodehouse’s 44th birthday, this hidden gem is much loved by Wodehouse fans.

For a moment Kay stared speechlessly; then, throwing her head back, she gave out a short, sharp scream of laughter which made a luncher at the next table stab himself in the cheek with an oyster fork. The luncher…

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Happy birthday, Plum!

ashokbhatia

Many of the fans of P G Wodehouse suffer occasional pangs of anxiety. They fear that the species comprising the admirers of P G Wodehouse may soon become extinct. They suspect that not many of the younger generation may be getting infected enough with the delectable affliction of Wodehousitis, simply because his works belong to a bye-gone era which fails to connect with the youth of today.

When they sit down to relish the pleasures of the table, the food – even if it is dished out by a spouse who might be God’s gift to the gastric juices – simply turns into ashes in their mouths. Their brow is furrowed. They shudder at the prospect of a PGW-less society in the future, devoid of the pristine humour which makes one unwind after the harsh slings and arrows of Life have taken their toll. The human race, which is trying…

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