just another week

So there goes another week passing us all by. . . the boss came back from the conference in Barcelona so theres a whole bunch of things that need his John hancock before i can execute some more ideas . . .The week started as it usually does…DULLSVILLE. Did the daily crossword routine and then sat with the team to discuss the plan for the week and how to efficiently spin stories in the media. For those of you that are not familiar I’m the PR guy for Pakistan’s largest cellular service and labeled as the proverbial Microsoft of Pakistan, we get our fair share of flack on areas ranging from high tariffs to deteriorating service quality et all. Whats a 10 letter word for 'venetian boat songs' anyway??

We got great media coverage (http://www.nation.com.pk/d
aily/feb-2007/16/bnews5.php) on the visit to the technical site I had arranged last week so the management was quite pleased with our strategic plan for 2007. For the very inquisitive souls my previous work can be seen on our corporate website at the following URL: http://www.mobilinkgsm.com/about/press.php

It seems unlikely that the week is going to get any better because there are various items that have been awaiting the ‘return of the boss’ so it seems the week is going to only going to make more people anxious. Theres an upcoming press conference to announce another launch so gotta get cracking with the media relations in an effort to secure good media presence so the phone and legs better start working in tandem to touch all the editors spread over the country.

Hope lies in the fact that Friday is two days away and then I can unwind by working on the beetle.

the busy weekend

so it started like all the other weekends. went home on Friday, showered, changed and got ready to go out and then realized . . . there was no place to go! Wifey had a girly dinner at the new French restaurant that’s opened up in E-7 so I decided to chill with Mr. Walker and catch 'Groomsmen', the flick by Ed Burns.

Unchanged, pulled out the movie and the stogie (have quite smoking again for the umpteenth time so am killing the urge to inhale by lighting up a good Cuban). A so-so flick with a few moments where one can relate ones own relationships with the 'bros'crashed early (midnit-ish) cause had to head to a junkyard outside the city in the morning to hook myself up with an old 'WWII Triumph Tiger Cub'.

Landed at the lot and saw hundreds of bikes in an eerie sort of mechanical graveyard (complete with the dry thistle bush rolling on the soil with the cool breeze). surveying the expansive lot finally revealed the one and only triumph (totally junked, rusted and the works) supported by a make-shift brick pile bike-stand. I turned to the lot manager and asked him what the asking price for the triumph was and was told after a lengthy and detailed tirade of how Quaid-e-Azam rode this particular bike in the streets of Karachi after independence and this was the most amazing piece of history the country had ever possessed and had miraculously made it to the extensive collection of this 'well-known' and 'honest' lot managers antiques.

I tried not to choke when I asked what the price was (which he still had not revealed during this 7 and a half minute rant) and was told that the 'final-final' price was 150,000 rupees. (that’s approx USD 2500 for the not-familiar-with-exchange -rates friends of mine) for a hunk of metal that was being held together perhaps by the rust that had fused the bike into a big brown mass of immobile parts.negotiations failed miserably, perhaps because he knew I was keen on the bike and would have paid a premium price for the classic 'piece of Pakistani history'.

Needless to say I moved onto another collection of the not-so-famous bikes and ended up purchasing a 1973 (I think so because the registration papers haven’t arrived as yet) Honda 350 in army green. Popped the bike onto the truck and had it delivered to the bike doctor in a nearby workshop and am supposed to get the revived and hopefully running bike in 10 days time.rushed back into the city to eat delish laksa at Mehr's place and got a chance to chat with my cousin Zohare about careers and work-jazz.

Chilled after lunch with some melon sheesha (what? Sheesha isnt the same as cigarettes right??!) and then headed back home to change and get ready for the evening din-din at Ace's place. Nihari was the menu for the night so the weekend definitely added some extra pounds to the already expanding waist-line. Got back around 1 am and crashed cause I had another long day approaching.Sunday was spent supervising the laying of the garden at the residence (apparently planting season is here with all the rains etc).

Tthe gardener had his 'team of 10' working like little minions digging and weeding and planting and prodding the soil. The chaps worked through the course of the day till nightfall but I am glad to say the garden looks awesome…Wifey has some superb plants which are looking great in the rock garden. Am now excited for the grass to take root and another BBQ can be planned during the 'good season'Sunday ended with me starting the second season of Prison Break and then read “The Tipping Point” by Malcolm Gladwell.Got into bed to start another week.

Boy, do I hate Mondays!!

14th Feb 2007

Finally its friday!time to unwind from the hectic and loong week which had me bouncing off to lahore for a media tour to our NOC (network operations center) facility which in simpler words is the 'technical' thingamajig behind every cellphone call...trust me guys communication is not as simple as dialing a number and pressing 'send'Had 13 journalists from Islamabad who we flew (PIA has improved its service and believe it or not the menu has changed!) to Lahore. Landed and assembled at the PR agency to meet up with the additional media persons from Lahore and then teetered off to the location (45 minutes outside the city) via a mini bus.

The drive was uneventful except for the GEO reporter who gave the live breaking news update (via his mobilink cell phone of course) about fresh info recieved on the Islamabad Airport Bomber. Apparantly the guy was a divorcee from DG Khan with small children and a bad temper. . .what is wrong with these people??!!well we reached the site and showed them the in's and out's of the NOC and then went to a board room for the Q&A session... these guys can really grill you and then some!!after 40 minutes of i-said-he-said we left the facility and went to PC (thats Pearl Continental Hotel for the not so local friends of mine) for lunch.

Scrumptious food i must say! the Chicken Masala was dee-lish!!ended the day with some work meetings and then back to the airport for the flight home. PIA does need to realize that its winter time, and running the aircraft AC at full throttle (as well as the engines i guess to keep us airborne) is not one of the most comfortable of journeys i have had.

Landed at a quarter to 9 and then headed home to chill with wifey.had been up since 530 am so was totally pooped by 10. Crashed early (after watching a bit of Prison Break) and headed to work on Thursday. (thursday is the day i got my beetle back so will write a separate piece on that) am excited about working on my beetle (reference wifey's note about the 1966 vintage) and chilling with the gang over the weekend.will see you on the flip side of the week with the quirks of the weekend!

what a coincidence

A chicken farmer went into a local bar, sat next to a woman, and ordered a glass of champagne.The woman perks up and says "How about that? I just ordered a glass of champagne too"'What a coincidence,' he said. 'This is a pretty special day for me, I'm celebrating."

'This is a special day for me too, and I'm also celebrating!' says the woman''What a coincidence,' says the man. As they clinked their glasses he asked 'what are you celebrating?''My husband and I have been trying to have a child, and today my gynecologist told me i'm pregnant!''What a coincidence.' Says the man. Im a chicken farmer.

For years all my hens were infertile, but today they're finally laying fertilized eggs''That’s great!' says the woman, 'how did your chickens become fertile?''I switched cocks,' he replied.She smiled and said 'What a coincidence!'

Beans, beans . . .

Once upon a time, there lived a man who had a terrible passion for baked beans. He loved them, but they always had an embarrassing and somewhat lively reaction on him. One day, he met a girl and fell in love.

When it was apparent that they would marry, he thought to himself, "She'll never go through with the marriage if I carry on like this." So he made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans. Shortly after that they were married. A few months later, on the way home from work, his car broke down and since they lived in the country, he telephoned his wife and told her that he would be late because he had to walk.

On his way home, he passed a small cafe and the wonderful aroma of baked beans overwhelmed him. Since he still had several miles to walk, he thought he would walk off any ill effects before he got home. So he went in and ordered three extra large helpings of beans.

All the way home he farted. By the time he arrived home, he felt reasonably safe. His wife met him at the door and seemed somewhat excited. She exclaimed, "Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for dinner tonight!"

She put a blindfold on him and led him to his chair at the head of the table and made him promise not to peek. At this point he was beginning to feel another fart coming on. Just as his wife was about to remove the blindfold, the phone rang. She again made him promise not to peek until she returned and went to answer the phone.

While she was gone, he seized the opportunity. He shifted his weight to one leg and let go. It was not only loud, but ripe as a rotten egg. He had a hard time breathing, so he felt for his napkin and fanned the air about him.

He had just started to feel better when another urge came on. He raised his leg and rrriiipppp! It sounded like a diesel engine revving and smelled even worse. To keep himself from gagging, he tried fanning his arms a while, hoping the smell would dissipate.

Things had just about returned to normal when he felt another urge coming. He shifted his weight to his other leg and let go. This was a real blue ribbon winner; the windows shook, the dishes on the table rattled and a minute later, the flowers on the table were dead.

While keeping an ear tuned in on the conversation in the hallway, and keeping his promise of staying blindfolded, he carried on like this for the next 10 minutes, farting and then fanning each time with his napkin. When he heard the phone farewells (indicating the end of his loneliness and freedom), he neatly laid his napkin on his lap and folded his hands on top of it.

Smiling contently, he was the picture of innocence when his wife walked in. Apologizing for taking so long, she asked if he had peeked at the dinner table. After assuring her he had not peeked, she removed the blindfold and yelled, "SURPRISE!" To his shock and horror, there were twelve dinner guests seated around the table for his surprise birthday party.