Dependence Day

In 3 days, India completes 64 years of freedom. We will celebrate independence day of 2011 like we always did. Our prime minister will give the country a speech, a tradition that will happen for the 65th time. The flag will be hoisted and everyone gets sweets. Then everybody can go home, eat a nice lunch and catch up on an afternoon siesta. But what is this independence that we are enjoying? As a common man living on the ground, as the end customer of the country, what is that I am getting out of life in an independent country, supposedly largest functioning democracy?

India is a country of rich cultural heritage. This is a country where some of the greatest minds of the world were born. A country where great and timeless kings ruled. A country known for some of the greatest architectural and natural wonders. A country where great religions and philosophies originated. A country where we were taught to love thy neighbour and respect elders. But that is all of the past isn't it? We have all been living in the glories of the past. As I look at it, the last 64 years have seen a downward trend.

Currently I live in a country where everything is manipulated and served to its people on a plate. A country where media that makes me believe what they want me to believe. A country where I have to wait for hours in rain and traffic jams to make sure that some bloody politician has a better ride back from his First Class flight travel to his 5 star hotel. A country where I have to wait in queues and be at the receiving end of a police lati just to watch a cricket match or celebrate a festival. A country where I have to live with a constant fear when I leave in the morning, I don't know if I will reach back home in the night. A country where I am scared to go to the police station when I am facing a social atrocity. We have become a country where I have to bribe to be born and another to die. India, reduced to a country where crooks are born, breed and control my life. A country where money means power and only power can buy money. A country where everything including god is black and maligned. A country where law is at least a 5 year plan and parliament is also an entertainment TV channel.

The politicians who lead us are all thieves. Each and every one of them without exceptions are today making merry in the name of religion, caste, economic differences, language etc. Not one is interested in bringing an equilibrium among them. They want the differences. They breed on the differences. They breed the differences. And how! The ones with power are looting my money, a tax payers income tax and either stacking them up in banks out of my country or burning it lead a luxurious life. So basically my money is accumulating and resting in some hi-tech bank in Switzerland and I have been driving through pot holed roads paying fines and bribes so that more of my money can go to Switzerland. Everyone who can is doing it, without thinking about the country or its people so long as they don't get caught. Even if they do get caught, each major criminal is going to end up living in air conditioned cells, the electricity bill of which I foot.

And all I am going to get is to pay a huge fine if I don't pay my income tax on time.

Its not like I am doing anything about it though. I am a patriotic Indian. By patriotic, I mean I carry an Indian flag in purse or stand up in and respect the national anthem when it is sung in theaters or talk highly of my country and its culture animatedly in drunk conversations or try to follow as many rules I can. I celebrate every time India wins a cricket match and cry tears of pride every time I hear a Rehman patriotic song. I am not proud of the fact that my patriotism ends in dark bars of a disappointing Indian city but what more can I do? I have to wake up early next morning and get on with the life of using the trashed city roads dodging through trashed city traffic going to a trashed office and earn money for my daily bread and income tax. 

I don't think I am Independent

I fall into that 1% country who is educated and employed. I fall into that small fraction of the country who lives in the city. If I look at it that way, I must consider myself fairly lucky. At least I can pay that bribe and get things rolling. What happens to the rest of them? If I am not independent, what about the rest?

I don't think there is point calling it an Independence day - more a dependence day -  a day when we show to the rich and the powerful that we are dependent on them.

Still - Mera Bharath Mahan! Jai Hind!

Bangaloreee

 Metro metro everywhere
 not one train to link
 Malls and malls everywhere
 not one place to sink

 Beautiful chicks everywhere
 with brains made of zinc
 Handsome punks everywhere
 holding hands and wearing pink

 Water water everywere
 not a drop to drink
 Bangalore weather is wonderful
 but its crowded and it stinks

bar to broom

bar ge hogi drink maad de rum
home ge bandaage thale anntu gimmm

bed mele biddu hodedaaga gorke
wife thandee bittalu porke

mankkuthimma - 1

car andre petrol karchu
bike andre accident hechhu
auto andre shiva bari mosa
bus andre volage masala dosa
heegiddaaga bengalorinalli naanu henge vodaadali mankkuthimma?

Cat – os – Trophy - 3

Stamping Feet

 When we were in school, we used to play a game we used to call Stamping Feet. The object of the game fairly simple and the rules were subject to change on the fly. It was basically a single player game and one person was considered out, a decision which we would come to based on “claps”(a complex method of eliminating and finding one random person in a group). The person who is out became the "catcher" and had to, with his shoes touch one of the other's. On success, the stamper would become the catcher and the stampee would join the rest of us and thus and the game continued. It was not really restricted to mere touching, it could also be stamping ( hence the name of the game ), kicking, tripping, anything that involved in contact between two things - one of them the shoes of a well fed, constantly sugar high, 15 year olds.

 On week days the bullies made merry. Thanks to the leather shoes which we were forced to use, the cheaper the shoe, the heavier it was and getting kicked by one was not a pleasant experience. No one really messed with the bullies. On week ends it was PT day and we were supposed to wear white canvas shoes. On these days, the game was quicker and it was more about technique and swiftness. Saturday games were more glamorous and usually included extra audience, the ones who were late and couldn't get their hands on the 1 basket ball, 1 volley ball and 4 shuttle rackets that were the only possessions of the PT department.  So with people(girls) watching and things like fame, name, 2 chewing-gums etc at stake the guys with the right body / brain / attitude for the game excelled and entertained. No one messed with the bullies on Saturdays too.

 The rest of us got fucked every day.

 The bullies went on to become politicians and real estate agents and the really rich people with loads of black money.

 The "body and brain" ones went on to become movie stars and sportsmen and entrepreneurs.

 The rest of us are still getting fucked every day.

Cat – os – Trophy - 2

I hate doctors. My history with them has been horrible. The two vets I have met so far have both ruined my life, each within 15 minutes of meeting me.

The first vet I went to was a very creepy man. He seemed to be lost in his own world, and I believe he was either mentally special or some one had hit him very hard on his head. As soon as he saw me, he pulled up my tail and declared to them that I was female. I was too young to realize what that meant for me but being a cat with an unsophisticated brain, I accepted what was told. This resulted in me being called "paru" for the first couple of days there after. Soon people who thought paru was a boring name came up with their own. I came to be called "mitai" "shreya" "tittu" "chitti" and their variations.

The next few days went away in shaping myself into an ideal woman. I was bought a pink basket which I could move around out of home. I was trained to keep my legs together and behave gently like how women are expected to. I was for sometime pedicured, nail polished and bathed twice every week. Something started developing between my legs but I ignored it. With time, the first vet was done away with for his stoney behavior because each time I was taken to him, he had to start all over again, starting from figuring out how old I was to looking what shots I was already given. I was more than glad that I didn't have to go there anymore because his clinic smelt of a stinky dog.

The second one turned out to be worse. The moment he saw me he confirmed that I am male. He also confirmed that what was growing between my legs were actually testicles and that I was going to hit "heat" soon. In about 3 minutes from then, I was given an injection that had a strange impact on me. I completely lost it. I could see and hear what was happening around but could not register a thing. I could not move. After what felt like a few cat days, my senses started falling in place. I could slowly move only to realize that there were stitches in the place where balls previously existed. He drugged me and cut off my balls. That basturd!

I am now stuck with the pink box, girly names and no balls.

On the positive side, I don't get to bath as often. I can be smelly and no one cares.  

and in faking news....

Mohali is getting ready to what is being claimed as the biggest event of the year, even bigger than the super moon which a lot of city dwellers missed because of traffic and pollution. The game is expected to be watched by half of the worlds population including dogs, cats, monkeys and Charlie Sheen. India and Pakistan are routed to play the semi finals of the World Cup of 2011, the most intelligent cup in the history of mankind - a cup that counts. God (who sometimes claims to be Sachin Tendulkar) too has taken a day off with a leave letter stating personal reasons. Though he was not available for questioning, sources say he was busy organizing the biggest party the real world will never know about. However India and Pakistan will definitely remain closed and the prime ministers are expected to be seen sharing a boxer. Errr box.

Some activists and cricket enthusiasts have been out on the streets today protesting that tomorrow must be declared a national holiday. Yuvraj Singh has stated that he is not going to play in any case tomorrow is declared a dry day.

The Indian cricket team were seen practicing with at most enthusiasm. While Ghambir was seen running between the wickets without a partner for over 4 hours with coach Garry Kirsten keeping a close watch on him, southies Srisanth and Ashwin was seen practicing screaming friendly accolades towards the opponents female family members in Hindi. When Dhoni was asked about his teams preparation he said with his usual lack of emotion "WELL OFCOURSE we will win. We are a horrible fielding outfit but we are surely better than them (Pakistanies). Our batting has not performed as expected  but we are better than them. And in the bowling department if Shoaib (Aktar) plays, our bowling would be as good as theirs. The boys don't really care about the cup as we can all count but we want to win it for Sachin (Tendulkar)"

The Pakistanis were seen taking a day off with every one attending to personal chores. While Afridi and Misbah were busy discussing family problems with Sania Mirza, Kamran Akmal was caught sharpening his front teeth at the dentist, just in case he had to bite nails (Not bails or balls he clarified) for what is expected to be a certain nail biter. When Imran Khan was asked on how his team was going to fare in the game he said " The boys are going to play for their lives as this is a do or die for them... that is the format of the game". However there are reports that he knows of a betle nut derivative would be extended to the names of the Pakistan team members in the case they lost the game. Previously the "supari" as the world calls it was out just in the names of the previous World Cup winner's captains . When a certain Mr D (name has been withheld to protect the individual) was asked if this was true, he said "No Idea."

Bangalore will remain closed tomorrow. Traffic has seen its peak since Sunday evening with people uncertain of the days of the week owing to Wednesday being declared a self holiday by everyone. For traffic police, it would be businiess as usual and have issued a press statment saying it would be safe to drink and drive only after the match in case India win. BSY has already made a statement that the launch of the Metro will be further delayed and the sole cause is the India Pakistan semi finals irrespective of the result of the match.

It has been speculated that the noted Arnab Goswami would retire after this match if India lose.

7 khoon maaf types

I dislike weddings in general. I hate them so much that if I were given a choice, I would not have even attended mine. The reasons why I dislike them is probably because I dislike all forms of social gatherings unless they involve beer consumption. I have never really tried to analyze the root of this issue to see why I am the way I am. Anyhow the point at this point is that I dislike weddings. However, there are times when attend them because of the in formidable forces acting on me. Like I did mine. A few others too.

 The other week end was one of those weddings I attended. It was that of the missus's friend's and I know the bride well enough to not to skip it. More over, I was the assigned driver and escort 7 women to and from the wedding hall.

Here are my top 7 observations, a dedication of one each for each of them I was blessed the company of:

 1. Women take at least twice as much time to get dressed to a wedding as compared to a normal day. This is excluding the time spent on the previous day to select the clothes, accessories and the works. If this selection involves any form of shopping, be it even for a rubber band, it would need an extra two days per item.

 2. Parallel processing is impossible for them while dressing up. If one woman takes 10 minutes (an under exaggerated figure, just for example) to get dressed, then two women take way more than 20. More the women, more the number of helping hands available but also more the extra time required. A clear case of too many cooks spoiling the broth.

 3. They would rather be dressed properly for the wedding than be on time for it.

 4. Every woman at the wedding has more clothes as back up for each occasion than all of the groom's clothes put together.

 5. There is no such thing as a multipurpose footwear. Even the sole has to match with something or other, a complex algorithm of matching which is better not understood.

 6. They don't really care about the food at weddings (which is strange considering men would not go to one if not for the food)

 7. They have at least 5 things in their purse which doubles as a mirror.

 I am not complaining at all. I am rather glad that they get dressed and come to weddings. Atleast that makes my time spent at weddings colorful. Its just an observation. I am waiting for the day when the world would not have weddings at all.

Draw a tie

 This Sunday turned out to be quiet an action packed day for Indians in general and for most Bangaloreans in particular. The build up to the India vs England match was marked with interventions from something or someone divine, not sure it was god or the devil(read Mandira Bedi). For one, the match got shifted from Eden Gardens to Chinnaswami. Saurav Ganguly continued to be under the opinion that the match could have very well happened in Kolkotta, so be it that the players of both the teams would have had to adjust a tiny bit and share dressing rooms. That kind of inconvenience he believed was acceptable, especially when the crowd of chota king smoking bengalis would  be out in larger numbers than in Bangalore resulting in the match being more action packed with Smoke Bombs and Water Guns instead of the traditional Lati charge that prevailed here.

 Those who were lucky like the local MLA's third wife's second cousin or stupid like Venkatesh to pay for the tickets through his nose, got to watch what would be equivalent to watching the "divya jothi" at Shabarimalai. They got to see the god, also called Sachin Tendulkar sometimes, perform magic once again, only to go for the mid innings break wondering what had just passed. Did they really see what they saw or did the just imagine the ball flying all over the park like the thousands of devotees do every year at Shabarimalai.

 The lesser fortunate, who didn't get their hands on tickets and were not at the end of a swinging lati got to watch the match in crowded bars. Only a few of them did get to watch the match while most had to satisfy themselves watching heads of the others. All of them however, in the hope of getting drinks had to avoid getting molested as the crowds that had gathered in such bars could have put the mumbai local to shame.

 By the time the second innings came mid way, everyone had mellowed down into a drunk stupor, some of them because of the alcohol, but most of them having early bouts of Monday morning blues. Come batting power play, not only did the Indian team came into spirit, so did the spirited individuals. Among the chats of "Bolo bharat mata ki Jai" and "Dhoni, Zindabaad" there were other more interesting slogans like "Soda, lemon, ginger-pop, I want Deepika Padukone on the top" as she glared on the screen biting Siddhart Mallyas nails(she didnt want to do hers as they had been pedicured specially for the match) and some subdued slogans of "Baath koli na denga" when Grame Swan came to bat also made rounds.

 The bar owners broke coconuts in the name of Shane Warne as the match turned out to be a tie. They were thankful that India didn't lose and therefore their mugs and bottles didn't get a chance to break. They were more thankful that India did not win and they could hold back stocks which could be sold after the Budget.

 Bangalore seemed to sleep early with only a hand full of losers who had gotten out of the stadium early with the expectation of an Indian loss but were too late to enter any bar within the prescribed closure timings of the city who were found singing "Oops I did it again".

close encounter with the opener

 Waiting for something in anticipation is always much better than the real thing.

 Its been a week since the world cup has started. One India match out of the way too, brilliant   batting  performance by the Delhi boys, though the match in itself lacked any real match feeling. However much the Indian players have to say about Bangladesh (revenge and all that), Bangladesh still seems like a school team who seem to practice with a tennis ball in the nets. It was a simple win, a match in which I slept through the second innings, primarily because of abuse of beer during the first.

 Still our players are injured in all over the place. Knees of Sachin and Shewag are in question, and so has Zaheers manhood(He seems to have a niggling groin from time immemorial). Nehra and Srisanth are as usual, injured in their brains. The way Indians are getting the advantage,  making sure all their games being played at home, I don't think it is surprising if ICC would allow Indian team to play in the practice match format - 15 member team for India.


 There has been lots of other action apart from the highly media-fied Indian team. NZ beat the shit out of Kenya and Ricky Pointing beat the shit out of a poor unsuspecting LCD TV. With the "aatakku untu lekkakke illa(There for the game, not for the count)" teams finishing off their matches in a hurry, the World Cup 2011 promises much more action in the coming days.

 Now that the India England match has moved from Kolkotta to Bangalore,  my absence in the stadium will hence be blamed on the ticket prices than as previously planned, the lack of good India matches in Bangalore.

 The practice is on from my end. Got the setup-box for my TV. Warming up my body for this Sunday. Have made a mental note not to consume the beer during the first innings. Would love to use KP as the make shift opener for the bottles.

 May the best team win. India of course.

Chai - na

Some time in 2017, the the world came to being dominated by Asia, especially India and China. Every other country in the world was either part of these two countries or supported  them.

 China had been trying hard to take over the country of India, waging a series of infiltrations in what would later be called the third world war. It was in these times came to power General Chi Thu, a small army general who had about 5000 soldiers under him. He had risen to the rank of a General with in two years of joining the army. This non formally educated boy had grown up in the mountains and, from a very young age had a sharp eye for solving problems. He joined the army and took over a small platoon on the unfortunate death of the platoon commander on one of the infiltrations on Arunachal Pradesh. He soon became a General and was given the primary duty of planning and strategic take over of India.

 He came up with this genius plan of taking over India, not in the usual way the wars are fought. He targeted Bangalore, which by then had become such a populous and rich city that it controlled all of the South India and had even over taken Delhi in population. Bangalore was so huge in terms of importance that, when Mumbai was destroyed in a stray attack by Pakistan before they, who ironically got destroyed by USA in 2014, Bollywood was moved to the then biggest IT power in the world. The people in Bangalore had become so busy that no one was cooking at their homes. Needless to say, the food industry was the most thriving business in Bangalore. This is what General Chi Thu saw as an opportunity which he thought he could exploit.

 He planned slowly flood every restaurant in Bangalore with his men. These smartly trained chinki cooks/terrorists would join as laborers doing mostly cooking but other random jobs. Soon each and every restaurant would have at least one chinki. On one planned day, they would poison every soul in Bangalore and take control of the city. That give them control of South India and then they would attack Indistan( after the US-PAK-EGYPT-SL war, India and Pak got merged of course) from both the sides.

 I believe the process of flooding our food industries with chinkies has already started. Beware Bangaloreans! Beware of that chinki server/cook at your favorite restaurant.

Cat – os – Trophy - 1

 One slightly rainy evening, I was separated from my mother and my two siblings. I must have been about a month and a half old. That sounds like that is the beginning of a horrible story of a poor cat who got separated from family and faced to live a treacherous life. But for cats, thats alright. There is no such thing as a family and friends in our worlds. We are born. We live to eat and eat to live - which ever comes our way. We hump like dogs. Like animals. Its our cycle of life.

 I was placed in a card board box and was brought to what I have started calling home now. I lead a fairly luxurious life. I get fed almost regularly, mostly dried cat food which I love profusely. I have a room for myself with large windows. I love it because I have enough space on the edge of the window where I can sit and look out of the window. There is so much happening outside but that hardly impacts me. Its a nice life us home cats get to live.

 I was given a sand box for the first couple of days. Those were the days I was getting adjusted to the new environment and new food habits. Obviously, I had some bowel issues and finally on my third evening there, I took the biggest dump of my life. Stinked big time. The very next day I got a proper cat litter. I am beginning to believe that action speaks louder than words. It would help if they let the bathroom door opened.

 "They" are mad people. I live with this guy and girl who brought me to this place that rainy evening. The guy is alright. He seems pretty useless. He sits in front of the computer or TV most of the time doing random stuff. He does not seem to have much of a job. He gets to do most of the kitchen jobs. I think he is a sad looser. But he is alright. He feeds me well when he feeds me. Clears up all the mess I create. If he is my assigned care taker, I should fight for a better one.

 That girl is a little crazy. From the time I got here, she has used a hundred names to call me. I think she is going through an identity crisis. She talks to all the plants in the house too. Giving them names. She however loves to flaunt me around. I love attention. She usually has people over who just want to come to meet me. It pisses me off though that she calls me by a different name every time. It is what is confusing. Am not always sure is she is calling me or some plant or ant in the house.

 I have a donkey to play with. He has grown to be my best friend so far. He is pretty dumb and seems to be physically handicapped or something. He expects me carry him around everywhere I go. I usually oblige only because he is my best friend. He hardly talks too. I think he cant really speak. Poor donkey.


 To be continued...

cutting

 Sometimes in life, one faces strange situations. When A has decided on achieving something and after having fought with oneself in the head about how difficult it is to actually achieve it, A is determined to achieve it, he comes across people B, C etc who are determined to make sure A does not do it. Its at these times when a true hero stands out from a normal person. A true hero never succumbs to pressure. I did.

 The current pollution levels in the city and my age and phase of life had prompted me to take a strange but off-beat decision. Grow long hair. It was going to be my last chance to grow long hair. Any prolonged wait would have resulted in failure because of the receding hairline issues of middle aged men and deviation from the age-appearence-social-acceptence rules. So a determined me started on a journey of growing unmanageable curly hair long a couple of months ago. The journey didn't last that long.

 Every person I met for the past few weeks had made it a point to mention my hairdo. Its nice to be noticed and all. Some even liked it but then there were others who ended up calling us(me and the hair) names. Some who met me regularly had even plotted plans to make sure that we had parted. My mom (a post graduate is Science I must admit) even induced fear in me (a BE) saying people with "bad mouths" could say something bad at my hair and that would result in bad energy coming my way eventually resulting in some harm for me.

 Thats it! Its over. I give up. When you fail, you not only let yourself down, but also a few who have supported you through it. Sucks but such is life!

9 days to go

The country is going to be under productive for the next couple of months. World Cup 2011 followed by IPL4. Hurray!

 I am a sucker for cheap publicity stunts. And nothing captures our imagination as much as cricket and Bollywood does. Everything about cricket and Bollywood is worth reading about. Despite of the spectrum of scams hogging our country, I get a kick out of a "Bhajji slapped Srisanth" or "Kareena kissed Shaid" stories. I know I should be ashamed but ah! what the heck... To behave in tune with the core of my personality, I would rather watch a cricket match or a film awards ceremony than watch Burkha and Rajdeep spit shit. Its Star Sports on my Sony Bravia hence forth.


 The current Bollywood and cricket "heroes" seem to have vague but vital similarities. This is possibly due to the rise of both platforms of entertainment around about the same time (or at least they have been there since I, as a two year old first could make out whats what). Its interesting when one draws loose parallels.

 Gavaskar could be an Amitab Bachhan - They say they have done lots of good work... but I couldn't care less.. The less I see them, the better I feel.

 Yuvi is like Akshay - There is a lot of hope and the end of it there is always a let down. A few(read very very few) glimpses of classes in the process.

 Srisanth = Sallu - More fart than actual shit types

 Raina = Hritik | Kholi = Abhay Deol | Bhajji = Paresh Raval | Siddhu = Bobby Darling and such.

 Which brings us to another interesting observation. I happened to watch Ajay Devagan on KWK the other day - Not really good looking; at least not conventionally. Came with a bang in a few action packed roles. Few awesome performances in the way. Settled into a comfortable place in business. Cool. Calm. Knows there is shit around. Knows how to deal with it. Knows how to handle media. No one is really a fan but would not mind watching him over the other jokers. Just like Dhoni on so many levels. I hope he can get us the cup. At least for Sachin's sake.

 Was trying to figure out a parallel for our beloved Sachin. But he is god and all isn't he? The true son of the country. Like Lord Ganesha. Or Chota Bheem may be

take me home kantri road

I am not really a morning person. Definitely not a Monday morning person. I hate the fact I cannot stay in bed and let my dreams take control of life. Monday plays spoil sport every week. Fuck Mondays.

I have gotten used to the traffic here. If one lives and works with the same company with considerable commitment to either of them, one ends up taking the same route day after day, between mostly constant points on the map and surely enough, one soon finds that perfect time of the day to commute with at least a perception that, that time of the day has streets that are least traffic infested (though that may not actually be true). Anyway, now that I don't "commute" to much per say to work(20 mins on my worst day; if I am not working from home ie - beat that suckers!) I don't really mind the traffic after all.

Its the time between entering the office gate and the time I first check my email that I find the most depressing. This involves

1. Parking

2. Elevator ride

3. Machine launch

Offices these days have way too many cars. The previous statement is the highly mellowed down version of the truth. So irrespective of the number of spots of parking available, there are always more cars. This is the case with at least me and a few hundred miserable people like me who work in my building. An average driver would take about 12 minutes from the gate to find a spot and park it satisfactorily between the given yellow lines. This would vary depending on the time of the day of entrance to the parking lot and weather or not you are stuck behind a not so average driver. Two wheelers are a little less unfortunate. I mostly fit into this category these days.

Thank god there are elevators. Taking the stairs from -2 to 6 is not something I would prefer to do any day of the year, certainly not on a Monday morning. But what irritates me about them are the bugged algorithms that run in the ones in my building and the people who use them to climb up or down 1 floor. I usually end up spending as much time waiting for a lift as I spend traveling on one owing to the aforementioned two reasons. This being an average of my combined experience with elevators in general, though a lot of the sample points are taken from my current employers building. My twitter page today reads, #ifihadagun I would shoot people who use the elevator between 1 2 floors. You who use the life between single floors, you are worse than traffic rules offenders. Shame on you.

The world of technology has advanced so much that visiting the moon is no longer a dream. It still is a dream to turn on a computer and not waiting for it to boot. Every computer I have turned on in my life (over a span of 18 years) has been a computer which takes close to 5 minutes before it can start accepting human instructions. These 5 minutes after having walked to ones seat exchanging strange "Monday morning blues" looks with co-employees present and sitting in the seat trying to look like one is making oneself comfortable always seems an eternity. Launch of mail client, chat clients and other necessary software required to progress in one's day takes as much time.

That's a good 30 mins on an average from the gate to my first instruction to my computer. What a waste of time. I will work from home tomorrow