i have a problem..

Why am I not like everyone else ?? Why am i different?? I think differently. My goals are completely different from those of my friends. Can i blend in ?? Should i try to blend in, at the risk of losing my individuality ?? Well, no way.

But then, i always wonder, why am i different. I'm happy the way i am. Money does not motivate me as much as it should, but fighting for a cause does. Why am i so hard to get along with, why do i disagree so often, why am i so unpredictable?? I have no clue. Frankly. I have never intended to be a non-conformist.

When i look back though, i feel i 'd rather be different. Just the way i am right now. Can't get along with me, can you?? I am not asking you too..

Bhagat Singh on leaders

........ There are two kinds of leaders who incline to drag the party back at the moment when it should go fastest. One kind also tends to see over whelming difficulties and obstacles in the way of revolution and looks at them ----- consciously or unconsciously -- with the desire of avoiding them. They alter Marxism into a system for explaining why revolutionary action is impossible.

The other kind are mere superficial agitators. They see never any obstacle untill they can break their heads against them. They think they can avoid real difficulties by floods of oratory. They look at every thing with supreme optimism , and , naturally change right over when something has actually to be done.

-BHAGAT SINGH

Written on page 74 of Bhagat Singh's notebook.
This note book was received on 12 Sep 1929 when the agreement was made between the hunger strikers and Special Jail committee.
Written in 1929.
Relevant in 2006.

Stop the car!!

They were just a bunch of drunk kids. 'Kids' is Amitabh Revi of NDTV called them. Why question them? Saara nasha uthar aaya hoga. I dont drink or smoke or dope but i do know what people who are inebriated can be up to. It isn't their fault that they got to the second gate. Why freak them out by telling them to get lawyers and that they may have to go to jail. They were so dumb, they gave their names and their employers names on national television. Their contracts will be terminated for straying into 7, Race course road when they were into drunk and blamed on prior indiscipline and absenteeism.

Take the SPG to task because they were clearly found wanting. Woefully wanting!

The PMO says it was not a security breach. With as much nonchalance as the kid in school who blames his failure in school on inept teaching. If you cant blame it on someone, find some excuse.

NDTV got so excited. From 10.00 p.m. i watched the channel and all i could see were images of the black Hyundai Sonata moving back and forth and the interviews and kisses. I switched it off at 11.30 in disgust. I heard both the interviews so many times and knew each word by heart. Come on guys, accept it, it was a security breach after all, wasn't it? Accept it atleast for NDTV's sake.

IBN gives the full names of the girls with their pics and their jobs and employer and the guy?? They know only his first name. Maybe he did what most celebrities do, he might have said no comments.

Bizarre and laughable it may have been, but i'm 100% sure that if the 'kids' had managed to sneak in through the second gate, they would have shot at. And the whole incident would be passed off as an intrusion by terrorists and accolades showered on the alert security men at the gates!

One lesson for all! If you are drunk, dont drive on Race Course Road.

Programmers are the rudders!!

For those who wonder why all the girls on Orkut with sexy photos are bisexual or bi-curious, i have another interesting thing you can spend time on.

Joel Spolsky explains the setup of a software company and why rudders are important to keep the sinking at bay.

And if you have no idea what i am talking about, maybe you should start pondering about whether Jaswant Singh is talking about a mole or a birthmark!! Or you can try to figure out the Indian Cricket Team is training in Nauru!!

Judge Not!!

Michelle send in this poem ..


I was shocked, confused, bewildered
as I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the lights or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven
who made me sputter and gasp--
the thieves, the liars, the sinners,
the alcoholics, the trash

There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
Who never said anything nice.

Herb, who I always thought
was rotting away in hell,
was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, "What's the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.

"And why's everyone so quiet,
so somber? Give me a clue."
"Hush, child," said He, "they're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you."

Judge NOT.

8 steps to excellence - Azim Premji

How does one create excellence in an organisation?

First, we create an obsession with excellence. We must dream of it not only because it delivers better results but because we truly believe in it and find it intrinsically satisfying to us.

We must think of excellence not only with our mind but also with our heart and soul. Let us look outside, at the global standards of excellence in quality, cost and delivery and let us not rest till we surpass them.

Second, we need to build a collective self-confidence. Organisations and people who pursue excellence are self-confident. This is because excellence requires tremendous faith in one's ability to do more and in a better way. Unless, we believe we can do better, we cannot.

Third, we must understand the difference between perfection for its own sake and excellence. Time is of essence. Globalisation has made the customer only more impatient. This may seem like a paradox: should we aim for excellence or should we aim for speed?

Excellence is about doing the best we can and speed lies in doing it quickly. These two concepts are not opposed to each other; in fact, speed and timeliness are important elements of quality and excellence.

Fourth, we must realise that we cannot be the best in everything we do. We must define what we are or would like to be best at and what someone else can do better.

Excellence is no longer about being the best in India. It is about being the best in the world. We have to define what our own core competencies are and what we can outsource to other leaders. Headaches shared are headaches divided.

Fifth, we must create processes that enable excellence. Today, there are a number of global methods and processes available whether it is Six Sigma, CMM or ISO. Use them because they are based on distilled wisdom collected from the best companies in the world.

Also, we must build a strong foundation of information technology, because in this complex, dynamic world, it is imperative that we use the most modern tools to keep processes updated.

Sixth, we must create a culture of teaming. I have found that while great individuals are important, one cannot have pockets of excellence. Quality gives ample opportunities to build a culture of teaming. Cross-functional teams that are customer facing can cut through an amazing amount of bureaucracy, personal empire building and silos and deliver savings that one would not have imagined possible.

The other advantage of building teams focussed on quality is that the teaming culture eventually spreads to the rest of the organisation and teaming becomes a way of life.

Seventh, invest in excellence for the future. Future always seems to be at a distance. But it comes upon you so suddenly that it catches you by surprise, if not shock. What constitutes excellence in the future will be significantly different from what it is today.

In these days of severe market pressures, there is big temptation to sacrifice the future to look good in the present. We must certainly trim our discretionary expenses, but we must ensure that our investments in strategic areas that lead to excellence in the future are protected.

Finally, excellence requires humility. This is especially needed when we feel we have reached the peak of excellence and there is nothing further we can do. We need an open mind to look at things in a different way and allow new inputs to come in.

No one knows

Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for
he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before—such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.

People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. "This horse is not a horse to me," he would tell them. "It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?" The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.

One morning he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came to see him.
"You old fool," they scoffed, "we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been too high. Now the horse is gone, and you've been cursed with misfortune."

The old man responded, "Don't speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable.
That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I've been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?"

The people contested, "Don't make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great
philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse."

The old man spoke again. "All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don't know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can't say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?"

The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always
thought he was fool; if he wasn't, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, an old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn't been stolen; he had run away into the forest.
Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. "Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us."

The man responded, "Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don't judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of a phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?

"Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is a fragment!
Don't say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don't."

Jamie Slocum, from his album MY HEART KNOWS

A sunburned face and weathered hands,
He stretches out the nets again.
He steps among the twisted lines,
And works them out in his good time,

Sometimes I picture God that way
Untangling all the mess I've made
Unraveling my lines so I can fish again one day....
Sometimes I picture God that way

Her tender hands pull tangles loose,
From gum in hair to knots in shoes.
With her quilter's skill and a mother's joy,
She frees the little girls and boys.

Sometimes I picture God that way
Untangling the mess I've made
Unraveling my kite so I can fly again one day
Sometimes I picture God that way

Sometimes I picture God that way
Untangling all the mess I've made
Unraveling my darkest nights
To weave a brand new day
Sometimes I picture God that way

Sometimes I picture God that way
Untangling the mess I've made
Unraveling my lines so I can fish again...

Yeh hai Bombay meri jaan!!

Dilip D'Souza in the HT on 17th July.

Bandra, where I live, is considered Bombay’s ‘first’ suburb. When I get to the Bandra train station, it’s unnaturally, almost eerily quiet. Lots of people, but so quiet. Yet today, the eeriness itself seems entirely natural. That kind of day, kind of bomb-blighted day. Platforms are swept clear of the usual throngs of rush-hour, public address speakers blare monotonous announcements about blasts — no trains, please stay calm and cooperate with the authorities.

I walk down to the southern end of the platform, where it’s dark, and immediately find hands reaching up to me from the tracks two feet below. Long lines of men and women off the trains that have stopped south of here, walking home along the tracks through the rain, asking me to help them onto the platform. One man hauls himself up, then tells me in inimitable Bombay Hindi: “Bahut log marela!” (Many people dead!) The walk south along the tracks is wet and slippery. Plenty of obstacles that I can only sense in this dark. Snatches of never-before conversation — blast at Khar, no at Santa Cruz. None at Churchgate. Many dead, many dead. One train at Borivli, right?

Just short of Mahim, the station that’s a mile-and-a-half away, a train has stopped on the track I’m treading, long, dark and undamaged. A hundred yards on, another train, and the buzz I’m now beginning to hear — amid huge crowds on the footbridge above and on the side of the tracks in front — tells me that this is the one. The train with the blast.

Sure enough, the first-class compartment in the middle of the train looks like someone buckled down to work on it with a blunt can-opener. It’s just twisted metal now, but I flinch at merely looking at it. Suketu Mehta wrote once, and famously, of hands unfurling like petals from a packed Bombay train compartment, reaching out to whisk just that one more commuter on board. From this train — still and dark in Mahim — the metal of the train itself unfurls like grotesque petals.

I see no hands.

I’ve travelled in these very compartments, at this very rush hour, hundreds of times. I know how people hang from every inch. What happens to people pressed in like that when a bomb like that goes off in their midst?

Gawkers everywhere. Some squatting on the concrete wall beside the road, some attached — permanently? — to the fence beside the track; others like me just standing on the stones with filth every where. At the jagged hole in the train, no more than 10 or 15 yards away now, a huddle of men. Their demeanour suggests that they are bringing out a body. They don’t, but one suddenly breaks from the huddle and rushes at us gawkers with a long stick. Get going, go on, get out of here, what’re you looking at! What are we looking at, really?

Another huddler steps over and suggests that instead of standing around watching, we might go donate blood at nearby hospitals.

The rain is now a lashing torrent, the traffic on the road outside a confused mess trying to negotiate through the crowds. Sirens again in the distance.

Every time a bus comes through, a part of the crowd coalesces into a coordinated shouting whole, thumping on the side of the bus for it to stop, urging stranded women commuters — only the women, for now — in. Down the road, another band of men stop taxis and cars similarly; in one case, they actually roll a small white car backwards, pushing that hard. Some serious and heated negotiation with the driver later, a few women fold themselves into the back and it moves on. Shopkeeper watching this from the sidewalk tells me, the police should be here doing this, organising buses to take people home. Instead the public — one more of those Bombay words, ‘public’ — is doing it themselves.

Young man in front of me suddenly opens his umbrella, and a sharp point from its canopy catches me painfully on my lip. For a moment, I could swear that’s blood flowing off my chin; then I understand it’s just rain.

Blood on my mind tonight. Sirens in my ear.

Further still, there are lights and announcements from a brightly-lit tent on the other side of the road. When I cross, two young men press glasses of water into my hands. I drink one down gratefully, conscious that I’m hardly a man in need here. They tell me, how far do you have to go, friend? If home is a long distance away, stop and have a bite to eat first. Pointing at the tent. This is a youth group — the Sai Seva Mitra Mandal — from a slum pocket along this stretch of road, whose sign I have passed for years without a second thought. Here they are in this driving rain, not two hours after this ghastly tragedy unfolded, organised with water, food, tables and a tent, all for fellow citizens left with no choice but to walk the long miles home.

People talk a lot about the spirit of Bombay. At this spot, I see it, I feel it, I drink it down, here with this young man scanning my unscarred face anxiously. I’m OK, I tell him, minor lump in my throat. Thank you so much.

Much slogging through the rain later, I am at the hospital. Three ambulances scream ahead of me, then the gates close and several cops are on guard out side, with a larger circle of people outside them. I push through and ask one uniform, can I go in and donate blood? Polite yet firm, he tells me, not now, please stand over there, we’ll come get you if we need blood, for now please don’t make things more difficult.

I hear him. Two reporters tell me, 22 bodies here, number can go up! Woman steps up and addresses the crowd, they’re taking blood at Holy Family Hospital nearby, why don’t you all go over there? Five or six men peel away from the crowd — unaccountably, I’m reminded again of petals — and walk on with her and me. She says, “I’m from a family of doctors, I went and told those cops I could be of help to any women victims who need to be changed or something. But they wouldn’t let me in. At least I can give blood.” Rickshaw driver offers to take us to the hospital. Two of the men pile in, then beckon to the woman. “Won’t you come along,” she says to me in a frantic whisper. “I can’t go in there alone!” She doesn’t know me from Adam, this woman. But before I can reply, the driver senses her unease and says, “Come along sister, nothing to worry about; look, you sit in front with me!” We pile in and we’re off. “I know you,” says the woman, turning to me. “Aren’t our sons in the same class at school?” (She does know me from Adam). The driver tells us all, “I brought four bodies in this rickshaw.” At Holy Family, he refuses any money. After ferrying bodies, and in this time, I suppose money means little.

The lot of us, dripping water on the hospital’s spotless floors, stride up to the blood bank. There’s time to get the names: Binaifer the woman, Shoukat the driver, Tabrez, Maaz, Anil, Nawaz and Ravi. We have, ladies and gentlemen, sound the trumpets, a Hindu, a Christian, four Muslims, a Parsi and an agnostic (me). All here to give blood for faceless fellow humans. (Not my blood, eventually, because I donated just two months ago). It really shouldn’t, but it touches me somewhere deep. There’s a sudden small commotion in the corridor. Man in bloodied shorts on a stretcher, wheeled swiftly into the ICU by plastic-aproned nurses.

Outside as I walk home, the rain eases. The memories don’t.

Blogspot.com blocked??? Oh Ya!!

Yesterday, Gaurav Sabnis said some of the blogspot sites were banned. I found it amusing. Why would someone wanna block someone's blog? Today morning, i find them blocked.

According to the more reputed and famous bloggers in the Indian blogosphere, some ISPs have blocked it because of a directive from the Ministry of IB or Ministry of Communication or some Ministry.

Thank you. This really helps what they call Freedom Of Speech.

Unfortunately, they forgot to block the dashboard on blogger. Which is why i can post.

And for those guys who think they can block people from expressing the disgust they feel deep down in their gut when they realise that this country is going to the dogs because of some horrendous and stupid decision makers who are more influenced by the lure of personal gain than by anything else, i would say carry on.

Block Google. And block blogger. And block the newspapers.

The good thing that is coming out of all this is that my resolve to rebel is only being strengthened. And i'm sure i'm not the only one feeling this way.

Vir Sanghvi on Mumbai

Exactly one year ago, when this paper(HT) was launched, I wrote, on this page, in almost exactly the same place: “A great city deserves a great newspaper.” If one year has taught me anything, it is not about how great a newspaper we produce — that is for you to judge, and not for me to say.

What these last 12 months have taught me is how great a city Bombay is.

More nonsense is written about the spirit of Bombay than about any other subject. Bombay is portrayed as the glittering Manhattan of the East; as the place where movers and shakers party; as the city where everybody just gets on with the job.

None of that is true.

The spirit of Bombay is about its people.

This is India’s greatest city; it is one of the world’s greatest cities. It is the one city in our country where people of all castes, creeds and languages can freely mingle. It is the one city where anybody can come out of nowhere and still make it. And it is truly the city of dreams: each year Bollywood just gets bigger and better, selling fantasies and entertainment to the whole world.

But it is a city that never quite gets the politicians or the infrastructure — or the credit — that it deserves.

A year ago, when the streets were flooded, our homes submerged and our city paralysed, they told us it would never happen again.

But it did.

A decade ago, when bombs ripped through the heart of our city, killing hundreds and pushing the limits of our patience and tolerance, they told us that this too would never happen again. They had beefed up the intelligence structure, they had traced the routes through which RDX entered; and they had put away the bad guys.

But, of course, it did. It happened all over again a few days ago.

But a great city does not let terrorists win. It does not depend on inept bureaucrats. It cannot be stopped by venal politicians. A great city counts on its people.

And it is the people of Bombay who keep us going; who rise above tragedy and attack; who survive despite the best and worst efforts of the politicians, bureaucrats and policemen whose salaries we pay.

So, one year after this paper was launched, let’s stop a while and think of ourselves: the people of Bombay.

Let’s think of the lonely commuters, piling uncomplainingly into train compartments, riding the arteries of their city on their way home.

Let’s think of the innocent people whose blood was spilled by terrorist murderers on Tuesday. Let’s think of the families where one chair will now always be vacant.

Let’s think of the rest of us; let’s reflect on how well we coped; on how we let neither fear nor hatred overcome us; let’s ask ourselves if we deserve better from our officials and our government. And let’s raise our cups this morning in a silent toast to the people of our great city. Because without the people there would be no spirit. And we would be without the phenomenon that is Bombay.

Two sides of a story

We know politicians are big time jerks. Never missing an opportunity to indulge in some name-calling. But sometimes you expect them to have some sense. Like when the country's financial capital is hit by 7 blasts in 11 minutes leaving around 200 people dead. All this in rush hout traffic. You can expect them to shut up and show a united, brave face. But then, dreams will be dreams. Remo had sung 'Politicians dont know how to rock n roll'. Politicians dont know how to shut up either. Check this.

The guys at Mumbai Help have done a great job. Every comment on their "How can we help" page is a testimony to the true Mumbaikar spirit and grit. The first people to help the victims in most places were the locals. Some distributed samosas, biscuits and water to stranded travellers. The authorities came much later aka police in bollywood movies. Clearly. Mumbaikars are made of stronger stuff.

As Pratyush Khaitan puts it

Today, as the morning sun rises, you are still angry. The Mumbai blasts were no hang over which would go away the next day. The innocent lives lost barbarically murdered cannot be brought back.

The simple joys we enjoy each day - sports, movies, music seem insignificant as lives are lost. That was the aim of the terrorists as well. So don’t stop dear Indians and continue with your normal lives while doing as much as you can to help the victims even though it will seem difficult.

As the Mumbai train started again today morning, the people cheered. Like that train, we have to carry on, if only to stand tall against cowardly people who attack innocents.

I'm joining Google

After generous helpings of this, i got a hang of some of Google's search technology

I might join Google's Copernicus Research Center

Expanding your innovation horizons

Found an interesting article on Fast Company by Richard Watson of Global Innovation Network. Here it is

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Companies must think more radically while still pursuing incremental innovations.

Too many companies emphasize low-risk innovations that aim to incrementally extend their existing businesses.

Most innovations fail and it’s easy to see why. They are expected. They are unimaginative, boring, and fail to excite or fill any real need. Indeed, most so-called innovations aren’t innovative. They are mundane line extensions to existing products and services that have no currency with cynical, time-starved customers. So why do companies keep churning out me-too innovations that have no magic or address problems that have been adequately met elsewhere?

I think part of the problem is that most companies put most of their innovation effort into what I’d call horizon-one type innovations. These are low-risk innovations that aim to incrementally extend the existing business. They usually make sense internally but most customers can do without marginal innovations, especially if switching from one product to another costs valuable time or money.

A few companies look beyond this activity to horizon-two type innovations. These are new products or services that aim to create entirely new categories within an existing market. This type of blockbuster innovation is difficult, but there are big rewards for any company that’s smart enough and persistent enough to try.

The third area of activity is horizon-three type innovation. But outside of technology this is as rare as a red carpet no show by Paris Hilton. Horizon-three type innovations seek to disrupt existing markets through the use of new business models, processes, or technology. This is an area where old industries are remodelled and where emerging science and technology is harnessed to address demand that does not seem to exist. It is an area at the very edge of what’s possible where comments like ‘ridiculous’ are often a favorable response because few companies have the imagination or the courage to follow such bold moves.

This is where the really big money is.

According to an INSEAD study, 86% of innovation is low risk and generates around 30% of current company profits. The remaining 14% of innovation is radical but generates over 60% of current company profits. I’d add to this that unless you are actively looking at horizon-three type innovations, chances are your company won’t be around in another 20 years to invest in lower risk incremental innovations. For example, only 26% of the companies in the Fortune 100 in 1980 were also on the same list in 2001. In other words, playing it safe 100% of the time is a dangerous business. So ‘innovate or evaporate,’ as author and innovation expert James M. Higgins says.

Another reason innovations fail is that successful innovations that remain in market are quickly copied by competitors. Not only that, competitors playing a ‘follower strategy’ are not disabled by many of the costs associated with bringing a new idea to market. Fast followers can quickly learn from the mistakes of the original innovator who is invariably bogged down by the double whammy of internal resistance and external inertia.

For example, can you imagine the money Unilever must have spent to put black laundry detergent (for washing black clothes) on shelf only to find archrival Procter & Gamble putting an almost identical product on shelf a few moments later? (I actually forget who was first and who was the follower--but that’s my point).

Furthermore, companies often seriously underestimate the hidden costs associated with innovations, so what looks like a success on paper is often a commercial flop over the longer term when hidden costs like logistics are taken into account. Incremental innovation (horizon-one type innovation) is something companies need to do to stay in the game, but it rarely delivers any long-term competitive advantage unless you can create continuous company-wide innovation as a core competency.

This is not to say that companies (or individuals) can’t get rich by inventing and capitalising upon a single new product (look at Red Bull, Dyson, or Swatch), but it’s getting increasingly difficult as mass markets fragment and consumer attention spans evaporate.

For instance, Apple (pre iPod and iTunes) held approximately 1,300 patents and had fanatical brand loyalty. The company was also held up as a poster child of the innovation economy. But Apple had only around 2.5% to 3.0% of the global personal computer market behind grey box brands like Acer and Legend. In contrast, Dell had a share of around 18% of the worldwide market thanks to process innovations like its ‘built-to-order’ production system. In personal terms, Michael Dell is also worth considerably more than Steve Jobs. Dell is the 12th richest person on the planet with around $17 billion, while Jobs languishes in relative poverty in 140th place will around $4 billion. This is ridiculously simplistic, but surely these numbers say something about the value of process versus product innovation?

Another good example is the no-frills airline business. Ryanair (a low-cost European airline) has a higher market cap that most European national carriers. Why? Because no-frills airlines like Ryanair have re-invented flying for millions of people -- not through glitzy product or service innovations but via operational innovation.

Similarly, Wal-Mart isn’t the sexiest retailer from a traditional innovation point of view but they are creative thinkers where it counts. Wal-Mart’s ‘cross-docking’ system (where goods are transferred directly from supplier trucks to store delivery trucks) has been fundamental to logistical efficiency -- which in turn allows the company to deliver low prices to customers. It’s not glamorous but it works.

So what’s the take-away here? First, companies must think more radically while simultaneously maintaining an incremental innovation course. Easier said than done of course but there is no easy route to any place worth going.

Second, companies need to focus more on process innovation. This is not innovation process (which they also need) but re-thinking how a market or business currently works and how value could be delivered differently in the future. In other words, companies need to think less about new products and more about how they are delivered via new businesses and new business models.

A final example: Day Jet is a new U.S.-based business that allows business travellers to fly direct to regional airports in six-seater micro-jets. This means that travellers can bypass time-consuming connections at big airports and avoid unwanted overnight stays in small towns and cities. This is a really nice idea, although in theory any airline could buy some micro-jets and do exactly the same. What makes Day Jet innovative is its business model: The company has no fixed routes and no fixed prices. Instead the business aggregates demand ‘on the fly,’ linking small groups of people that want to go to the same place at roughly the same time. Routes and pricing will fluctuate in real time as demands ebbs and flows and customers will be offered a series of different prices depending on how flexible they are willing to be (give a little, save a lot). What’s really clever about this idea is how the business model blends some trends -- like mass customisation, dynamic pricing, and social networks to create a product that is extremely difficult to copy.

Entrepreneurial endeavour, huh??

Top 10 Signs You're Made to be an Entrepreneur according to this

Live for Web United

Discrimination everywhere

After Love United, it's time to sing Web United.

The goal I loved the most

I have not seen Maradona's goal of the century live but i was lucky to watch Esteban Cambiasso's effort in the WC.

Here is what FIFA's website has to say about Cambiasso's goal against Serbia & Montenegro

In a move comprising fully 26 passes and involving nine different players, Argentina moved the ball from one end to another in the space of 57 seconds. The Serbo-Montenegrins could only look on in wonder as the sublime movement and technique of the South Americans ripped their feted defence to shreds.

The goal was football poetry in motion. First Maxi Rodriguez, well inside Argentine territory, laid the ball back to Gabriel Heinze. From Heinze to Mascherano, from back to front, and from right to left; a perfect example of Argentinian artistry. Rodriguez was involved on five occasions, Mascherano and Juan Roman Riquelme four times each, while the hapless Serbo-Montenegrins were forced to play the role of hypnotised onlookers.
Their agony was finally complete when, with his third and most telling contribution to the move, Cambiasso stroked the ball home to spark wild celebration in Argentina and open-mouthed acclaim from the rest of the world.

Think u know it all??

What About these things?...(Got them in an email forward)

1) "Stewardesses" is the longest word typed with your left hand and
"lollipop" with your right.

2) It's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.

3) Maine is the only state whose name is just one syllable.

4) No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver,
or
purple.

5) "Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt".

6) Our eyes are always the same size from birth, but our nose and ears
never stop growing.

7) The sentence: "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" uses
every
letter of the alphabet.

8) The words 'racecar,' 'kayak' and 'level' are the same whether they
are
read left to right or right to left (palindro! mes).

9) There are only four words in the English language which end in
"dous":
tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous

10) There are two words in the English language that have all five
vowels
in order: "abstemious" and "facetious."

11) TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters
only
on one row of the keyboard.

12) 50 states are listed across the top of the Lincoln Memorial on the
back
of the $5 bill

13) A dime has 118 ridges around the edge.

14) A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.

15) A crocodile cannot stick out its tongue.

16) A dragonfly has a life span of 24 hours.

17) A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds.

18) A "jiffy" is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.

19) A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyes.

20) A snail can sleep for three years.

21) Al Capone's business card said he was a used furniture dealer.

22) Almonds are a member of the peach family.

23) An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.

24) Babies are born without kneecaps. They don't appear until the child
reaches 2 to 6 years of age.

25) Butterflies taste with their feet.

26) Cats have over one hundred vocal sounds. Dogs only have about 10.

27) February 1865 is the only month in recorded history not to have a
full
moon.

28) In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.

29) If the population of China walked past you, 8 abreast, the line
would
never end because of the rate of reproduction.

30) If you are an average American, in your whole life, you will spend
an
average of 6 months waiting at red lights.

31) Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors.

32) On a Canadian two dollar bill, the flag flying over the Parliament
building is an American flag.

33) Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite!

34) Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.

35) The average person's left hand does 56% of the typing.

36) The cruise liner, QE2, moves only six inches for each gallon of
diesel
that it burns.

37) The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar
tube
and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket.

38) The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely
solid.

39) There are 293 ways to make change for a dollar.

40) There are more chickens than people in the world.

41) There's no Betty Rubble in the Flintstones Chewables Vitamin's.

42) Tigers have striped skin, not just striped fur.

43) Winston Churchill was born in a ladies' room during a dance.

44) Women blink nearly twice as much as men.

45) Your stomach has to produce a new layer of mucus every two weeks;
otherwise it will digest itself.