Airports @ Bangalore…

When I first went to Bangalore about seven years back, I had only heard that the weather’s brilliant in Bangalore. It was. And it surprisingly stayed so even while the entire city outgrew itself in a very disturbing fashion. It is this weather which made Bangalore India’s Silicon Valley, and propelled the city on a trajectory that caught everybody (especially the infrastructure and government authorities) by surprise.
I was at the Bangalore airport last week. There were (I had enough time to count) a total of 127 people in the queue ahead of me for the security screening. It appeared as if we were all going for a “darshan” or something. At least the feeling after the screening got over, was something quite similar.
The new International airport shall be operational soon, and while currently it takes about 1.5 hours to go from the airport to anywhere, it will probably take at least 3 times more after March ’08. Those of you who remember having seeing Shrek, would recall the kingdom of Far Far Away. The new airport at Devanahalli (incidentally, the birthplace of Mr. Tipu S) is exactly there – Far Far Away…It is believed that a few localites (perhaps in honor of Mr. T Sultan) have started new ventures (with 41% stake being held by Karnatic Local Groceries Capital which is based out of Bilekahalli) of horse-rental services, which is causing great worry to the CxOs of Avis and team.
Perhaps the early morning flights (yes, the ones for which you have to wake up at 4 AM) won’t be good enough to attend meetings starting at 11 AM. Because it will probably be already 7 PM by the time you reach your destination, and it will be time to catch the return flight. This flight, of course, would be at 4 AM the next morning, and for you to reach in time for the important security screening mentioned above, it would be advisable to leave almost immediately, on horses or other modes of advanced communication.
It might be a good idea for the tours and travels companies to start special “packages” catering to this new segment of “Airport Journeymen/women”. As our popular CNBC analysts would say, it is perhaps time to invest in KLG Capital, as it is about to start carrying it’s due diligence exercises on these companies...

Thinking of thoughts…

Sitting here, not so pretty,
With pen, paper and ink…
Shepherding those meandering thoughts,
With a mild, cold drink…

They wandered, aimlessly,
Each, an endangered recluse…
As I sort them all out,
And put them to some use…

Ideas, hovering around surreptitiously,
Searching for landing space…
They heard the gun at different times,
Running their own, unhurried race…

Days passed, in unheard agony,
They shot past the finishing line…
I wonder how I missed them all,
Considering they were all mine…

Signals, hurtling slowly,
Colliding in the electromagnetic battleground…
Some diminishing, some diminished,
My own thoughts, unrecognizable when found…

They stare back, questioningly,
What took you so long, they ask…
No excuses, just trifle remorse,
As I shift behind the mask…

I am back, honey,
Like a drunken lover, I proclaim…
Carving them out, from inside their graves,
To begin anew, the attempt to tame…

It will work out, surely,
We have agreed upon that…
Tranquility, harmony, and world peace,
Once again, with the writer’s hat…

Watch what you lose...

'Twas a winter evening, and a few of us were roaming around in the city, when we chanced upon a hoarding proclaiming another of those wonderful gyms with a promise to tone up and flab down. There was (as is customary) a picture of a hot babe on the hoarding, and it became difficult to comprehend (as is also customary) whether the reason for attending this gym should be those oft-failing promises of 5 kg reduction etc, or should it be the chance of enhanced proximity to the woman.
It was then that one of my co-passengers blurted out his own experience. It so happened that he had come across a somewhat similar advertisement, and following his basic instincts he had turned up at the designated venue with the hope of losing his weight, as well as the hope of losing his virginity in perhaps the same premises. This was his first gym visit, and he had perhaps drawn a parallel between the grunts and huffs and puffs of a gym to the somewhat similar sounds that get generated between the sheets.
He decided to give his luck a try. But of course, in a very prudent way so as to not make his intentions obvious. "So, this gym, when was it built?" is how he started the conversation with the receptionist. A meaningless question of course, and the receptionist was quick enough to figure out that there was some other question behind this question. But she (like all good receptionists) waited for the train to come back to the tracks. "Nice glass all around, must have been expensive, no?" was the second question. The receptionist waited. "You have a lot of trainers here, huh?" was the third nail in the coffin, said with as much expectation as is generated upon the sight of imaginary water in the desert. The receptionist now figured out where this conversation was headed, and aptly replied "Sir we have trainers for both men and women."
Our guy was now charged up "Aah, of course, of course, you should have trainers. These days so many women are taking up various kinds of jobs. I like women trainers. Would I get this (poking his finger at the image on the pamphlet) woman to train me???" You could almost see the tongue wagging, when the receptionist poured cold water on his desires, "Sir she doesn't work here anymore". One should have been there to see the expression change... He had lost everything, except of course what he hoped he would have lost in there... So much for new year resolutions...

Another bus...

Seems like I have been bitten by this bus bug... just can't seem to jump out of it...

So this time it's this very huge, gigantic, and roaring bus of real-estate...At the present rates in Mumbai, it looks difficult for a common person to lay claim to even one square foot of land, in his/her entire life. The other day they told me about this apartment (or perhaps it was a house) which got sold at 97000 Rs per square foot. The total deal size was 34 crore INR. When I first heard this, I got up from my chair and stood in the "at-ease" pose and looked at the area covered by my feet below. Not that I didn't know what one square foot meant, but perhaps I needed to do this little exercise so that I could bring myself out of the stupor caused by this news. The "ground beneath my feet" was literally slipping away...

This is one bus which I have missed. At least as of now, that's what the current status is. Land today is more valuable than gold. Houses bought for 15 lakh INR about four years back, are giving returns of about 200%. It's almost frightening. Like the feeling you get when you have climbed really high and find yourself perched on just a stone jutting out of a mountain. Leaves you out of breath. As if you rushed and raced to catch a bus but missed it, leaving nothing but wasted oxygen...

They say the US sub-prime crisis will hit India. Now that's one big bus gone on the wrong side of the road... and that perhaps will be a little too harsh for India, but seriously, somewhere this bubble needs to break. Before it grows any further, or, to conclude with our existing analogy, before the bus conductor and driver find themselves thrown out, out on the pavement (refer earlier article) where a few people are still waiting...

The "Bus" effect

Just imagine a lazy Sunday afternoon, you are standing on the pavement (perhaps under a shade, just so that the laziness persists) and are watching buses go by. So far, so normal. I mean, what's wrong with just watching buses anyways. But now imagine getting phone calls from those who actually boarded those buses and are now telling you of the cornucopia unleashed as a consequence of that ride. Now you wish you too would have joined the bulls as they rode on their gravy "buses", the sound of their resounding bank balances echoing in their every breath. And then these stories become legends, and you start hearing of uncles who had bought L&T shares for a thousand INR, or of your friend's mom who (on a broker's recommendation of course) had stocked up NTPC at 160 INR, and so on...
And then, it strikes you... here you are, with all those stocks somewhat out of your reach, while those aunties and uncles are buying real-estate with all that windfall, and while you impatiently wait for corrections, you realize you have just been hit by the bus effect (perhaps being hit by the actual bus causes less trauma).
This is what happened to quite a few Indian investors near Diwali, where more fire-crackers were lighted not to celebrate of Ram's victory over Ravana (how many of today's kids know those stories anyways?), but certainly because of Sensex' victory over the 20000 barrier.
The 20000 phenomena resulted in what is the opposite of panic selling -- panic buying. The equivalent of it (in our bus analogy) being a situation where you just hop on to the first bus that comes your way, without even looking at the route number. Though thankfully (as is usually the case), it were the upper middle-class retail investors who were the hardest victims of this malaise (remember, our FII and hedge-fund friends have everything planned out, well, almost...).
That phase is still somewhat in progress, though the risks of not reading the route numbers are now becoming evident as these investors find themselves in the middle of the desert, while FIIs continue to sell (and probably will continue till December ends), the markets continue on a partial correction course (some pockets of over-valuation still rule the mid-caps).
For those still on the pavement, it might be worthwhile to do some homework. Afterall, some buses come with only a one-way ticket...