London 2000

End of the London updates

Sorry, didn't get time to write more. This page will no longer be updated.

Inverness

The next stop was Inverness. I didn't know Inverness had any history to it. It wasn't till we got there that I learnt that the Inverness castle was where Macbeth (of Shakespearean fame) ruled from. In fact, it turns out that Macbeth was a really nice king. There was this barbarian who fought him, lost, and turned to the English for help -- who of course were delighted, and they killed Macbeth. This barbarian stupidly signed a document saying that Scotland would pay tributes to England, and that's been the source of all the trouble.

The other thing to see, of course, was the famous Loch Ness monstor, or Nessie as the locals like to call it. We made one mistake, though. We landed there on a Sunday. As we got off the bus, we learnt that no tours operate on Sundays. The tourist information center was closed. I wanted to buy batteries for my camera, and the shops were largely closed. The only practical thing that was open was MacDonald's, so we picked up a meal.

Fortunately, a guy called Tony Harmsworth came along on his van. He conducts guided tours to the Loch Ness, so we hopped on with about 8 others. Tony was apparantly involved with the Loch Ness centre since its founding, and had in fact headed it. So he was very knowledgeable about the history of the monstor.

Loch Ness in itself is beautiful. It's a huge lake, very calm, and apparantly very deep. On one end is the sea. On the other end is the Urquhart castle. It's a stone castle that was destroyed by the Jacobites (who had the habit of destroying everything they saw, actually). I have a sneaking suspicion Tolkien borrowed quite a bit of inspiration from the Loch Ness and the Urquhart castle. It could well be the remnants of Isengard -- or the fort of the Uruk-Hai orcs.

The monster itself, of course, is just a myth. The local folks always thought there was a large fish in the waters. In 1933, Mrs. McRoy saw something large -- about 6 to 9 feet -- that she thought was a whale. Journalists caught on, and blew it up to a monstor. A Mrs. and Mr. Spicer claimed to have seen a snake-like monstor walking past the road. (We drove past this spot.) A vet student told his mother that he broke his bike because he fell off in surprise when he saw a dinosaur-like creature. Since he was a vet student, journalists believed him. A famous reporter found hippo pugmarks. In the end, it turned out to be a hoax using his hippo foot-shaped ash tray. Then this reporter rigs a photograph that looks like a dinosaur peeping out of the lake. That's a hoax too, using a toy submarine and a piece of cardboard. Many of the other 'monstor' photographs turned out to be fakes -- in one case, a labrador fetching a piece of stick (see if you can spot the face of the dog). In the 1987, operation Deep Scan searched the whole lake, and found 3 suspiciously large living objects, but they were no where near large enough to be a monstor. Sure, there's probably some big fish down there, though.

The rest of the evening was at a local pub with some loud music on. Then we hopped on to the bus, reaching London at 7AM on Monday.

In time to get back to class.

Edinburgh

Scotland's wonderful. We left on Friday night at 10:30PM on a 'coach', as they call it. A bus, really. We would've gone by rail, except that because of the recent flooding, trains weren't available to Scotland. The coach was far too uncomfortable to sleep, until exhaustion overcame me at around 2AM. We reached Edinburgh at 7AM. (Incidentally, it's pronounced Edinburough, though if you heard a Scot say it, you would be forgiven for thinking it's 'Edinbarra')

The cold there is to be felt to be believed. The forecast said 3 degrees, but it could well have been sub-zero. We stood shivering at the bus stop, waiting for the next bus that would take us to the hostel where we'd booked dorms. The place was called "The Edinburgh House Hostel". So we knocked at 1, Craiglockhart Terrace, and a lady opens it.

"Excuse me, is this the Edinburgh House Hostel?"

Stares a while. "No, this isn't exactly a hostel. Wait a minute."

So we wait a minute. A man in underwear appears. "Come in, come in."

"Excuse me, is this the Edinburgh House Hostel?"

"Uh, well, um, yeah, kindof. Would you like a room?" He had just been woken up, and wasn't at his brightest.

"We already have a reservation. We would be staying one night."

"Ah, very fine. That would be 15 pounds, then."

"But we already booked this place for 12 pounds!"

After that, the conversation degenerated to chaos, and we finally sorted it out. A guy called John, who lives in Canada, and probably owns the place, had confirmed the booking for us over e-mail. The guy in underwear (Tom) didn't know about it. Anyway, he said "Here's your room. Here's the bathroom. Here's the kitchen. Good night!" and went back to sleep.

An Australian girl called Kim, who stays in the same house, said it was just their house, which they had let out during a festival season, and were now using it as a boarding house of sorts. You could tell. It looked like a normal house, except with bunkers.

---

Scottish bus drivers are crazy. They insist on having us give the EXACT change, failing which you cannot get on a bus. No cards, nothing. After having struggled with that a bit, we managed to get to Princes Street, the main street in Edinburgh. Edinburgh has these hop-on hop-off tour buses that go around the city giving commentary. You can get on and off at any point. Our first stop was at Edinburgh Castle, where we met William.

William (not his real name, I'm sure) had painted half his face blue, had long hair, and was dressed in armour. He even had a sword. If none of this sounds familiar, you haven't seen Braveheart. (Incidentally, our tour guide tells us that William Wallace is supposed to have been 6'7". ) He was collecting donations for children with leukemia, and we donated liberally in exchange for a snap with him. We gave the inside of the castle a skip. Once you've seen one, you've seen them all. We went, instead, to a weaving exhibition, which showed the history of the Scottish kilt. The Scottish dress is basically a skirt of sort (the kilt), and a cloth you tie to the shoulder. It started as a blanket that you wore when you moved around, but became a fashion item later. These things cost over 500 pounds today. We also got snaps of ourselves in these kilts at the exhibition.

Our next stop was Arthur's Seat, which is a hill that has a great view of Edinburgh. Being the great athlete that I am, I could climb up about 30m before I was panting. We did manage to get close to the top, though. The lovely thing about the UK (perhaps all of Europe) is that the colours are so bright that, even when people dress in greys and browns, the scenery is splendid.

It was dark by 4:30PM. The evening was spent window shopping, and in my case, eating anything that I could find. Good, as it turned out that I had to skip dinner. The neighbourhood pub told us at 7:05PM that they served dinner only up to 7PM. Strange country!

What people read on trains

I'm leaving for Scotland tonight, and will be back on Monday morning. Await interesting stories...

While academics has prevented any outdoor adventures over the last few weeks, the underground has been an unending source of intrigue. This morning, for example, I decided to take a survey of what people in the underground were reading. People on the trains would either read something, talk on their mobiles, or listening to a walkman. The last category are uninteresting. The only mobile phone conversation I overheard is too embarrassing to be be printed here. So I'll stick to what people were reading.

Most, of course, would read the newspaper. There's a free paper called The Metro which is available in most railway stations. Some would read books, but till date, I haven't been able to recognize a single author other than Colin Forbes and Arthur Clarke. Quite a few used to do their office work. For instance, there was a black lady who was reviewing the HR policies of her company. The tourists were easily spotted, since they would be clinging on to the railway map and poring over it. Several would be reading books on how to speak English. But these were the normal ones.

The more interesting ones were, for a start, a Professor who was doing his quiz paper corrections on the train. It was a quiz on financial markets, rather like Prof. Srinivasan's -- a few questions, with blank spaces for answers. He seemed to be going at the rate of 1 per minute.

Another one was reading a book on chess problems. Endgames, particularly. I couldn't tell what language it was in, though, but I did find time to copy a few phrases down. "en zwart gaf", "verliest", "weerlegging van de tekstzet". Sounds Scandinavian to me. This man was so engrossed in his problems that he didn't even notice me looking over his shoulder.

But the most interesting one was a man I shall call "Piccard", because he looked quite like Patrick Stewart (who plays Captain Jean Luc Piccard in Star Trek: The Next Generation). Piccard was bald (almost), with blue-green eyes, wearing a jeans, striped T-shirt, and an orange-black jacket (the kind that policemen wear). Which is all fine. What's interesting is that he was memorizing something from a notebook. It looked like a diary with handwritten notations. It isn't easy for me to read upside down, but after 15 minutes, I realized that they were names of streets!

For example, one page was titled "Wondsworth Town Hall to Harrods", and was followed by a whole page of street names. Nothing else. Now, who on earth would memorize street names? One possibility that struck me was: pizza delivery men. Piccard didn't look like one. Another possibility: terrorists. Quite possible. Piccard was bald and was chewing gum. Very likely. Piccard went on with this right though the journey, even memorizing maps, when they came up. Now I'm absolutely sure. Maybe someday he'll hit the papers, and I'll say "I travelled on a train with this guy."

My memory being terrible, I was writing all this down, lest I forget it. This made the person to my right (whom I'll call Demi, reasons will be obvious later) extremely curious. I mean Demi sees this person who's got a tiny Post-it pad, in which he's writing down stuff in a tiny handwriting, while suspiciously staring at a bald-head in front of him. I didn't want Demi to know what I was writing, partly because I was writing about Demi too. So we'd play hide and seek. I'd wait till Demi turned around, then quickly scribble a word or two, just when Demi's head would turn back, and I'd put my pad back into my pocket. There would be a stalemate for a few minutes, and then Demi's head would turn back again.

The reason I call Demi Demi is: I couldn't tell if Demi was a guy or a girl. I mean, he/she had a crew-cut hair. His/her face looked slightly feminine, but his/her build was masculine. No ear-rings, no sign of facial hair, nothing. The first image that struck me was: Demi Moore in GI Jane. I would've tried to find out more, but something else at the station stopped me. I'll write about that later.

Photos developed

I got the film rolls developed from Fotango. You can see my photos on Yahoo.

More gale trouble

The gale caused all kinds of trouble to the underground trains. When I got on at Newbury Park, there was an announcement that trains would be running slow today because there were trees on the track. It wasn't too far after that accident, and the British Rail was running slowly as it is. Looked like the underground would match it. Then there was another delay -- signal confusion this time.

But the cake was when they stopped the train because there was a 'suspicious looking package on the track'. Now, I can't imagine what brave soul decided to inspect it, before reporting after two minutes that it was 'no longer suspicious', but even less, what could have been in there.

The train problem wasn't local to London. Carlos (another exchange student) was on the ferry from Calais to Dover, and the ferry was rocking worse than a plane in the middle of a big storm. Of course, people threw up on the boat more than the boat threw them up. By the time they reached Dover, the port was closed, and Carlos was stuck at Dover for 14 hours (with barely any food). He ended up a little late to class, unshaven. Apparantly the gale toll was pretty high.

But with all these heady issues, my time in the train was spent observing a character quite unconcerned with these proceedings. A 2-year old blonde boy (blue-eyed) was sitting next to his mother, reading a copy of the Metro (the local newspaper). I say "reading" because that's exactly what it looked like he was doing. It was on his lap, and he seemed to be staring at it intently. From where I was sitting, I could read the headlines: "Oil Profits Soar to 10-year High". Future oil-magnate, perhaps. A few seconds later, he lifted the paper carefully, turned a few pages (no kidding -- he actually flipped them), came back to the front page, stared at one corner, and started biting it.

Now, that looked like a much more normal thing for a kid of his age to do. It wasn't until I got off that I noticed what was on that corner of the page.

"Spice Girls Toast Their Ninth No. 1"

Squeezing more time out of life

Sheer laziness kept me in bed till 9:30AM. Then I got dressed, and logged on to the computer, only to be greeted with "I've set the clock an hour behind, because it's Daylight Saving Time. Check if it's OK." or something like that. Neat! I truly got an extra hour. I mean, I actually did something useful. So I told Ashwin (an exchange student from UCLA) that I'd gained an hour of life.

Ashwin: "But then, you'll lose it when the time changes back..."

Me: "No, because I'll be in India by then."

Ashwin: "Hmm.... something wrong there."

Me: "And I can do this for ever -- just spending winters in London!"

Took us a while to figure out that we'd be losing time when we were on the flight. But neither of us seemed to mind.

There's a gale warning. Now, the weather's cold enough as it is. Wonder what a gale's going to do to it.

Train delays

The gale caused all kinds of trouble to the underground trains. When I got on at Newbury Park, there was an announcement that trains would be running slow today because there were trees on the track. It wasn't too far after that accident, and the British Rail was running slowly as it is. Looked like the underground would match it. Then there was another delay -- signal confusion this time.

But the cake was when they stopped the train because there was a 'suspicious looking package on the track'. Now, I can't imagine what brave soul decided to inspect it, before reporting after two minutes that it was 'no longer suspicious', but even less, what could have been in there.

The train problem wasn't local to London. Carlos (another exchange student) was on the ferry from Calais to Dover, and the ferry was rocking worse than a plane in the middle of a big storm. Of course, people threw up on the boat more than the boat threw them up. By the time they reached Dover, the port was closed, and Carlos was stuck at Dover for 14 hours (with barely any food). He ended up a little late to class, unshaven. Apparantly the gale toll was pretty high.

But with all these heady issues, my time in the train was spent observing a character quite unconcerned with these proceedings. A 2-year old blonde boy (blue-eyed) was sitting next to his mother, reading a copy of the Metro (the local newspaper). I say "reading" because that's exactly what it looked like he was doing. It was on his lap, and he seemed to be staring at it intently. From where I was sitting, I could read the headlines: "Oil Profits Soar to 10-year High". Future oil-magnate, perhaps. A few seconds later, he lifted the paper carefully, turned a few pages (no kidding -- he actually flipped them), came back to the front page, stared at one corner, and started biting it.

Now, that looked like a much more normal thing for a kid of his age to do. It wasn't until I got off that I noticed what was on that corner of the page.

"Spice Girls Toast Their Ninth No. 1"

Diwali

It was a rather busy week. Nothing much happened. I realized that I'd been roaming around too much, and that it was time to get to some assignments. Not that much work was done. Understandable, since most of my time was spent reading movie scripts -- notably The World is Not Enough.

Diwali was not at all bad, considering that most of it was spent away from home. After spending 10 hours in front of the computer, I walked home from the Ilford station, when I was greeted with a BANG! It was with pure delight that I turned around, just in time to see a rocket exploding. It took me 45 minutes to walk home that night, watching as I was all the sights in the sky. Never, even in India, have I seen such lovely firework displays. The noise was probably a BIT subdued, but I wouldn't even be sure of that. The place even smelt like home! I did hear the comment that "Indians have to bring noise pollution even here, do they?" Sure. We make ourselves at home. We lit a lamp, and that was about it for Diwali.

There this site called Fotango that develops films for free and posts them online. I sent 4 rolls to them. The deal is that, you put all these rolls in an envelope, and mail it to them (postage is prepaid). After 3-4 days, the develop your film, mail the negatives to you, and put up the snaps online on their site. So how do they make money? Well, if you print out any snaps, they charge you. But they're also in the process of building online communities and all that. Well, sounds good, but my bet is still on Yahoo!

Oxford

We visited Oxford in the morning. It was a tour with the Indian YMCA. Though I slept through most of the beauty of the English country side, Oxford itself was a classic example. We went up a tower from which we could see most of Oxford. It was a small town, (about an hour-and-half from London) with lots of spires and quite an old architecture. The Oxford University is split into many colleges, Magdalen (pronounced Maud-len) being the most famous of the lot. Lewis Caroll (of Alice in Wonderland) and Tolkien (of Lord of the Rings) hailed from here. We went first to Christchurch college. I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as the grass there, with the possible exception of Hampton Court Palace. From there, we took a walk along a river to Magdalen college.

The river was practically filled with people rowing. It was a saturday, so I guess everyone was practicing, but even then, there were far too many boats. Looks like EVERYONE at Oxford has an elective in rowing or something. It was fun to hear the coaches shout instructions over a microphone to those rowing. After walking along the river for about a mile, we learnt that Magdalen was somewhere else. Not enough time to see it, so we just walked back. On the way we found this troupe, the Huckleberrys, who were performing on the road, opposite to a MacDonald's. They were even selling CDs of their album. The music was pretty fast, and nice too.

I stepped in to the MacDonald's for some french fries. The prices were quite reasonable. That reminded me of one of the World Economy classes. We all know that Purchasing Power Parity should determine the exchange rate in the long run. (Those who do not are advised to attend an elementary course on International Finance at IIM-B.) Now, it appears that the OECD estimate of the Japanese Yen against the dollar says that the Yen is overvalued by at least 60%. A World Bank study says its overvalued by 50%. These studies are based on PPP. However, if you look at the price of a Big Mac in the US and in Japan, it turns out that the Yen is perfectly valued.

OK, coincidence, you say. What then of Thomas Friedman's "Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention" which asserts that no two countries have fought a major war since after both of them have gotten their MacDonald's? (Yugoslavia doesn't count. They fought the NATO, so to speak, which is not a country.)

The next leg of the trip was Stratford upon Avon, which is Shakespeare's birthplace. Being the uncultured bumpkin that I am, the bulk of my Shakespearean knowledge stems from Jeffrey Archer's "Shall We Tell The President". Anyway, we strolled over to Shakespeare's birthplace, but refrained from paying a 5 pound entry fee. Apparantly, in Britain, you pay to see EVERYTHING. They make more money out of tourism than any other single industry. Then we went to the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, which is the 'original' Shakespearean drama company. But the highlight of the trip was the "Teddy Bear Museum".

Gyles Brandreth had set up this Teddy Bear Museum in 1984, and it had teddy bears from all over the world. Tony Blair's teddy bear was there on vacation. Margaret Thatcher's was there. Vivien Leigh's was there. You name it. It was wonderful, especially since we could cuddle the teddies. They had a teddy library too, stocked with some masterpieces:

Lateral Thinking, by Edward de Bruno
The Goldilocks Conspiracy, by Little Bear
Vanity Bear, by Thackeray
Dr. Spock's Cub & Bear Care, of the Medibear series
The Hunchbear of Notredame, by Victor Hugo
Bear Watching, by Desmond Forrest
The Complete Works of Shakesbear
Encyclopaedia Beartannica

I'd take up a job there, if they'd offer me one.

London Eye

After lazing around the whole morning, I went to the London eye this evening. The London eye is this huge giantwheel that's probably one of the tallest structures in London. When on top, you're supposed to be able to see all the important places in London. It was arranged by the LBS for the exchange students, but not many had turned up, since it was raining.

So we got on, and despite my fear of heights, it was a nice experience. You do get to see quite a bit. The only problem was that it got over too soon, and since we didn't have a guide, I didn't know what most of the buildings were anyway. I did spot St. Paul's Cathedral, which looks lovely, and another building which I'm told is a famous gay club (of which there are tonnes in London).

The real fun began when we decided to go over to a bar after that. I don't think it's my first time in a bar, but it certainly is the first time in a bar where there's lots of smoke and people are dancing. So as I walk in, I spotted something that I'd been hunting for ever since I got to this city: a belly button piercing. Since it was a rather rare sighting, I decided to follow it and examine it -- at a safe distance of course.

As I was occupying myself thus, a man (pretty huge one), walks up to me along with a couple of friends, and started staring at me. I stopped worrying about the piercing and started worrying about the door. The big guy pointed a finger at me (I prayed) and said "Are you a cab driver?"

I'd been expecting a lot of things, but this was one question I didn't have an answer to. No, I was not a cab driver, but I didn't think I wanted to tell him that. In fact, I didn't want to tell him anything. So I walked around him, when all the while he was pointing at me, and asking "Are you a cab driver? Are you a cab driver?"

As I walked past the Big Ben, I told myself that it must have been my black jacket that made him think I was a cab driver, and headed home.

---

On 18th, I'd mentioned how dependant I'd become on the railway timing. To corroborate a bit about that, let me tell you about another night. There was a train that's supposed to leave at 10:43PM. I'd set my watch by the railway clock. When I looked at it, my watch showed 10:42PM. I was a fair distance away from the train, so I made a dash for it, and reached with barely a second to spare by my watch. Whew. I sat, waiting for the doors to close. Nothing happens. I look at the watch outside. It reads 10:42PM. It turns out that my watch gains about 10 seconds every day. I'd set my watch against the railway's clock a week ago, and my watch was 70 seconds ahead. In India, it would have scarcely mattered.

Which is not to say that the British are thrilled. There was a railway crash last week, as a result of which all overground trains had a maximum speed imposed all of a sudden. So EVERY British Rail train was delayed by half-an-hour, on average, and the service became erratic. This morning, I was waiting for a train, when an elderly man next to me said, "You know, this speed limit thing, it's silly. I mean, the problem is in the tracks. They should have replaced them ages ago. Such a thing could happen only in England..." He nodded at me wisely and said, "Only in England."

I wanted to tell him about the time I slept in a station, waiting for a train that was delayed by 8 hours, and ended up travelling by a different train. "Only in India," I would've said.

McKinsey PPT

The McKinsey presentation was this evening at Lord's. Yes, that's the Lord's Cricket Ground. So at 7PM, there was this huge crowd of people strolling over to the Nursery Pavillion, wondering why Lord's had a square cricket pitch. Google and AskJeeves haven't given me an answer yet.

McKinsey's presentation had two high points. First, it was mercifully brief. The entire presentation was for 2 or 3 minutes, and all that this partner said was, "Hey, we love LBS. You know about us. So we're all standing here, here, and here. Come over and talk to us."

So we went over and talked. I mean, I hate networking, especially if I don't have any questions to ask. But still, I've been instructed to collect visiting cards. So may as well. I walked over to a lady called Sacred, who told me what she was doing at the Business Technology office at London. Sounded like fun. Then I met this partner at the Kuala Lumpur office, called Alex Smith. He was wearing a terribly funny looking shirt, and I figured he just couldn't be from McKinsey. But he was. So I asked him how he ended up in Kuala Lumpur? I guess it kindof embarassed him, because he started of with how his significant other was there, and that he moved there, and she moved to Paris, and how it was a long story, and let's not get into it. Fine by me. Anyway, I spent the next half-hour just listening to him. It was a nice experience, and I walked away without bothering with a card.

I haven't mentioned the other high point, though. Chocolates. The people at Lord's handed out these HUGE balls of chocolate that was shaped like a cricket ball. I ate mine in a flash. When I was leaving, I found another on the floor. I mean, this is getting to be a habit. But this time, there were no qualms. The wrapper was on, and I hadn't stepped on it. Sure was a feast that night!

Bain PPT

I had to attend the Bain presentation today at 10AM, so I tried getting to LBS early. I started at 8:45AM. But for some reason, the train crawled on. The engineer couldn't figure out why himself. Anyway, as a result, the train was nearly half-an-hour late. Now, if the Bangalore Mail came in half-an-hour late, I'd be thankful. But here, it's gotten to the point where one makes appointments relying on the efficiency of the British Rail. Well, it's a lesson, I guess.

But the lesson was not without its benefits. While I was sitting in this train, with nothing better to do, I decided to see what people were wearing. I was wearing a suit and a jacket, carrying an umbrella with a book in my hand. I looked at they guy in front. He was wearing a suit and a jacket, carrying an umbrella with a book in his hand. I looked around. The description seemed to fit quite a few of the people on the train. I guess it's their uniform or something.

The Bain presentation was fine. Since I came in late, I couldn't follow much, so I whiled my time looking at the people in the presentation. The hall was packed (over 150 people), and yet I couldn't find a single soul (apart from myself) with a moustache. The reason I was looking was that the guy on the train had a moustache, and it was a fairly rare sight. I figured I may as well prove that he's a statistical anamoly.

Speaking of statistics, I had some time to kill at Baker Street. So I sat down and surveyed the crowd. I noted the racial characteristics of the first 100 people whom I saw. Here's the breakdown:

African	8
Chinese	9
Indian	5
Caucasian	78
Total	100

Certainly can't find this kind of a mix in most cities, I'm fairly sure. London is cosmopolitan.

We spent the afternoon with Pierce Brosnan. Awfully nice chap. He even posed with us for a snap.

Phantom of the Opera

There's a stall that sells theatre tickets for half price at Leicester Square, so I went there in the morning. It opened only at 12 noon, so rather than waiting, I just bought tickets for the balcony. 15.50 pounds didn't seem to much. The musical was "The Phantom of the Opera", running at Her Majesty's Theatre.

There were 6 of us, and we went to the show. That was when I realized why the tickets were so cheap. They were on the second row of the third floor. Which meant that we had to crane our necks to see anything. What made it worse was that the lady in front of me refused to sit still. But after a while, I got used to it.

Well, one can see why it's been running house full for the last 10-15 years. The visual effects are amazing. The play begins with an auction of a chandelier which fell during a performance at an opera in France. It is rumoured that the chandelier was caused to fall by the 'Phantom of the Opera'. We go back in time (special effects). There's this girl who's been learning music from the Phantom, and he loves her, but she loves Raoul, who loves her. So the Phantom is angry, and does bad things, but finally gets a bout of conscience and unites them. That's the plot.

But you wouldn't think it when watching the show. The music is spell-binding, and performed real-time. When the Phantom takes Catherine to his den, they row over a lake made of smoke. Near Catherine's father's grave, there's a lovely effect of water puddles. At this point, the Phantom appears and there's some great fireworks also. What's even more impressive is the coordination of the staff to get all these HUGE sets in place from scene to scene. The largest was a huge staircase, which must have weighed several tonnes. Sure, they must have had wheels. But still, it's a feat to marvel at. Put all this in with the music, and you get an experience that's more gripping than any movie that I've seen. The 3 hours flew by like the blink of an eyelid.

Well, not quite. Although I felt myself in the 17th century right through, there was one small interruption. Towards the end, when Christine was softly sobbing to Raoul, the atmosphere was broken by the ring of a mobile. That moment was almost like snapping back from a vision to reality.

Now, how can I stop myself from seeing "The Lion King"?

Not an Indian

Yes, I haven't been updating for a while. Problem is, I've been doing too much and writing too little. Let's see if I can fix some of that now.

First of all, people can't seem to tell where I'm from. This is despite the fact that I'm the only one with a moustache in the whole batch, and am therefore the one person whose name no one forgets. I mean, I lost my name card after the very first class. Yet all the Professors talk to me like long-lost friends. Anyway...

One of my first such experiences at London was when I got out of the station and was looking for a cab. A man came over and said "Salam aleikum".

I said "Huh?"

He thought I hadn't heard him. "Salam aleikum," a little louder.

Even normally, I'm not very sharp. This was at 11PM UK time, and that's 3:30AM India Standard Time. So I said, quite eloquently, "Huh?"

"Salam aleikum"

"Huh? What?"

At this point, that fellow lost his patience and said "Aap Pakistani hein?" (Are you from Pakistan?) After having learnt that I'm from India, he said he'd mistaken me for a Pakistani, and if I wanted to call somebody or something, I could use his mobile and all that. Very nice.

Today, a red Ferrari (I think) was zooming down the road as I was walking to the station. All of a sudden, it braked near me, and stopped quite close. The window rolls down, and a moustached man sticks his head out and asks, "Yoo speek eetahliyen?"

"Huh?"

"doo yoo speek eetahliyen?"

"No, I'm afraid not, sorry."

"Oh-kay." And drives off.

That afternoon, I mean this girl from Western Ontario, who's also on an exchange programme at the LBS. We talk for a while. Then, she asks, "So, are you American?"

"No I'm Indian." (She could've thought me an American Indian, so I clarified) "From India."

"Oh. But you accent is so American."

Make your own conclusions.

---

The more I think about it, the more I feel IIM's obsessed with grades. That includes me, of course. Today we got back our first assignment: Koito Manufacturing, from the Mergers & MBOs class. We got a 10/10. Britta and Atsushi, my team-mates, were thrilled. But then I had to ask: "What did the others get?"

Britta's instant response was: "Who cares?"

Good point. You see, at LBS, everybody knows their own grades, but not the others'. The don't get to know their ranks either. They are forbidden from mentioning grades in their resumes, and LBS certainly doesn't tell any of the recruiters their students' grades. Naturally, the competition is quite low. In fact, I think the only reason people are studying is the fact that they're paying 20,000 pounds or something to study here. Sounds like a good system, if you ask me. But for a hard-core IIM-B product like me, it's all too easy to drift into an easy life. In fact, I think I already have!

In case I hear any murmers of dissent, here's proof. I'm going to "The Phantom of the Opera" tonight. Madame Tussaud's tomorrow. The Lord's Cricket Ground and a party (the Sundowners) day-after. 'The London Eye' on Friday. Oxford and Cambridge on Saturday. Westminster Abbey and the Big Ben on Sunday. On to Europe next week. See?

Speakers Corner

OK, it's not in chronological order. So what?

Some of us decided to go to The House of Mirth. Figured it might be worth watching a movie at London. May as well see what the theatres are like. Besides, Gillian Andersen would probably be worth it. (Incidentally, I learnt that it's pronounced 'jillian', not 'gillian' with a hard 'g'. While we're on the subject of pronounciations, I may as well admit that I learnt 'buffet' rhymes with 'ooph-hey', 'genre' is pronounced 'jaan-ra', 'Renoir' is 'Ren-wa', 'deluxe' is 'deloo', 'Nice' is 'niece', 'rendezvous' is 'rondevoo', and so on. England does teach one how to pronounce French :-)

The theatres look pretty much like the small theatres in India. A student ticket is 3 pounds(almost Rs. 200), which by now, I actually consider cheap. Only thing is, people don't like others talking to each other in theatres. We tried to chit-chat, but were shooed down -- even before the movie began. The movie was OK. Worth watching once.

Incidentally, when the movie got over, I stood up, to find a bar of chocolate under my foot. At this point, a dilemma presented itself to me. Do I eat it, like I usually do, despite having stepped on it? I mean, it still had it's cover on... or do I do in London as Londoners do? It was a nice chocolate, and all that. After pondering deeply for about 2 seconds, I took a small bite. It didn't seem poisoned. I took a larger bite. Seemed tasty too. Maybe there is such a thing as a free lunch.

Then we went over to this place called the 'Speaker's Corner' or something. It's a corner of Hyde Park where anyone can come over, get on a stool, and start talking. The first guy we met, poor fellow, was just standing on a stool waiting for people to come over to him and talk. We figured he wouldn't have much to say, so we moved on to a more colourful character.

The colourful character stood on a tall stool which said

Tony Alien
Advocate Heckler
Anarchist Parasite
Mixed-ability Shaman
http://www.newagenda.co.uk

First, of course, we took a photo of this guy, and then listened to him. He was expressing his strong opinions about drugs, and how one can't live on 60 pounds a week. He was also calling the policemen around some names. In fact, just as he was doing that, the police were dragging off an African-American who kept shouting "This place is against the Muslims, man! You're all against Muslims!" I later learned that he was not a speaker -- just a member of the crowd who started beating up a speaker or something.

We moved on to another African American. His argument was simple. "We all know that Jesus is the son of God. But when we tell this to the Muslims, they say 'No'. Why? Because we have no proof. Well, today, we have proof!" At this point, a few Jews and Muslims around him started fighting with each other. At least half of them were drunk. Then there was the 'Brotherhood of the Cross & Stars'. An African-American in a white frock.

But the hit of the show was Stewart. Stewart was this guy wearing blue glasses and bunny ears, standing on top of a bottle crate. He looked funny, so we went over, to hear him say "... and Jesus Christ is here to save our ass. And if he's here to save our ass, then by Holy Ass, it's saved!" Clearly, he was making a mockery of the whole show, but just as clearly, he was the funniest of the lot. So we stuck on.

He had lunch that day with someone (he wouldn't tell us who, because who she was was none of our business, and none of his either, for that matter) at an up-scale restaurant at Notting Hill. He had pizza, dessert, bananas, and all kinds of stuff, and as he was drinking apple juice, he just couldn't stop himself, so he threw up. He didn't throw up the pizza and dessert -- just the bananas and apple juice, which were kind-of on top. Now, this up-scale restaurant was terribly upset that someone threw up their food, so they decided to waive the fee. Stewart and his friend (whose identity is none of our business, and none of his either, as he reminded us), felt that was great, and walked out. Then they remembered that they hadn't tipped him. Stewart, by then, was on his way to Speaker's Corner, and had put on his bunny ears. As a matter of policy, he doesn't remove his bunny ears until he's finished what he has to say. So he goes over to the restaurant to tip the waiter, in bunny ears, even though he hadn't paid them in the first place, and had puked in the second.

At about this point, a gentleman with a deep growling voice comes over and says aloud, "You are talking utter nonsense. Those people talking over there, they have something to say. You have NOTHING!" Stewart claims that's precisely the point. He's saying nothing. You're hearing nothing. There IS nothing. Growling voice goes on about how those who're listening to him are wasting their time, when Stewart begins to go "Grrr, Arf Arf Arf." It's incredible how close he sounded to the heckler.

A slightly demented looking guy in the audience came forward, and said, "I have a question."

Stewart: "Sure, go ahead and ask!"

Demented guy: "It's for him," pointing to the growling man.

Stewart: "Sure, go ahead."

Demented guy to growling man: "Grrr, arf arf arf?"

The whole crowd burst out laughing, and Stewart turns to the demented guy and says, "You're good. You're real good, and you know it!"

The highlight of the evening was that we got to see Shahnaz Hussain. I even took a snap of her. She does look a little overdressed, though.

---

Incidentally, when the Palestinian trouble broke out (on 12th October), there was a march by Muslims in the UK to protest against the British stance on the issue. It was a sight to watch. I was walking along with Jean-Francois (a French exchange student from Kellog) from the Thornton computer lab to the main LBS building. The road was blocked. There were about 100-150 muslims walking on the road, shouting something. What impressed Jean-Francois and me was that they were surrounded by 100-150 policemen, and that about 10 police vans were following the crowd. Neither of us had seen such a high police-protestor ratio. Guess there isn't much chance of violence, given such an entourage.

Harrods

I had the courage to walk into Harrod's today. Rather silly of me, really, since I had about 250 pounds in my pocket, and was wearing an IIM-B jacket with my backpack.

As soon as I walked in, a guard came up to me and said, "I'm afraid you'll have to carry your backpack in your hand in this store, sir." Struck me as slightly crazy. What, is it a measure against shoplifting? Or is it like you're supposed to wear suits in some shops? Or did he just want me to feel uncomfortable? If so, he succeeded extremely well. It's painful to carry a backpack in your hand, even if it's got next to nothing.

The entrance led to the perfumes section with lots of French names. I sensibly walked out, and into the men's accessories section. The only thing in my budget was a teddy bear on display for 19.95 pounds, and I've promised myself not to buy any more teddy bears. Went on to the frosted foods section. Looked really nice. For the first time, I walked past meat without a revolted look on my face. I mean, pork was actually packed like a pig, but it looked so elegant. Then to the coffee and tea section. There were some coffee jugs that looked like they needed buying. But not now...

Uptil now, I had consciously avoided looking at the prices. I was window shopping, after all. But the designer jewellery section forced me. There were, of course, tiny diamond rings for 1,000 pounds. I looked around, for the first time, at the people around -- who could probably afford these rings. Sure, all of them were wearing suits. The ladies were wearing some kind of sophisticated casual dress (can't describe it -- too sophisticated for me), while there I was, in Allen Solly trousers (luckily), unbranded T-shirt, IIM-B sweatshirt, torn backpack, and IIM-B hip-pack. Unshaven. It speaks volumes of my courage that I decided to explore the section rather than run away.

I began hunting for the most expensive item. Thought it would put life in perspective. I found a necklace for 45,000 pounds. That's over Rs. 30 lakhs. Being courageous, I didn't faint. A few rows down, there was a ring (had to be gold) with something big and red in the middle. 135,000 pounds(over Rs. 91 lakhs). Should do well as a wedding gift, I guess. But the pick of the lot was a watch. The tag said 189,000 pounds (almost Rs. 1.3 crores). It was a diamond watch. Let me explain what that means. Watches usually have a strap, right? Sometimes they're made of steel, right? This one had one that was made of diamonds -- with steel between the diamonds. You could barely see the steel. Watches also have a dial, right? That was made of diamond too. I could see it because it was cut. The hands were probably studded with diamonds too, but I couldn't see clearly. That's because the glass cover on the watch wasn't glass, but diamond.

Feeling decidedly sophisticated at this point, I walked up to the Food & Wine section. Again, with the objective of determining the costliest item around. It wasn't an exhaustive search, mine, but I figure there aren't many wines that sell at 45 pounds for 0.375l. That was Schilfwein Halves, Wills Optiz 1994. (Don't ask.) Of the Champagnes, Brut 1985, Savlon, Blanc de Blancs, Le Mesmil was 115 pounds for 0.75l. But the costliest piece on the floor was Montranchet Grand Cru, at 435 pounds for 0.75l. No, I have no idea what kind of beverage it was.

And this is just one floor of Harrod's. I decided to come back to explore the other floors when I had a suit on, and did not have a backpack. So I walked down to Hyde Park, where hundreds of birds insisted that I feed them my lunch, failing which they would take it by themselves. After having escaped with a few cake crumbs, I made my way back to LBS.

A tiring day

A rather tiring day.

• 09:00 am: Wake up, and still feel sleepy.
• 10:00 am: Leave for LBS
• 11:00 am: Reach LBS. Check mails. These days, it takes a couple of hours.
• 12:30 pm: Attend India Club meeting for Diwali celebrations. Very well organized.
• 01:15 pm: Presentation by Booz-Allen & Hamilton. Pretty good. Manage to stay awake.
• 02:15 pm: Eat lunch. Stupidly eat prawns without seeing the labels. Almost vomit.
• 03:00 pm: Group meeting. Discuss Dell.
• 04:15 pm: Fall asleep in AT Kearney's presentation.
• 05:15 pm: Stay away from anything that looks non-veg during tea.
• 06:00 pm: World economy class. Excellent professor. Terribly funny. Everything makes sense.
• 07:00 pm: Guest lecturer. Fall asleep.
• 08:00 pm: Back to Prof. Scott. Wake up and listen.
• 09:00 pm: Answer more mails.
• 10:00 pm: Chucked out of computer center. Go home.
• 11:15 pm: Have dinner.
• midnight: Crash.

British and animals

I had my first case interview today. Four of us (3 exchange students and one LBS MBA grad) sat together and tried giving each other cases. It's an excellent learning experience. Had I gone in for a case interview without this preparation, I'd have flunked.

Our class on Financial Analysis was good fun -- and an exposure to yet another illustration of internationalism. Prof. Higson (in his perfect British accent) mentioned that he was part of a programme on TV for some society of animals. (Not as a caged animal that looked sorry, he assured us. He was talking about stocks -- no idea why.) We were discussing the 'Body Shop' company (the one that sells natural cosmetics), and apparantly this company was blacklisted by the programme, for failing to be 'animal-friendly'. Prof. Higson was mentioning that one of the reasons for Body Shop's success was the British obsession with being kind to animals. He suggested that, therefore, Body Shop may not have been as successful elsewhere.

That was a leading question, naturally, and someone disagreed. So Prof. Higson quietly murmurs, "Perhaps there's someone from France in this class?"

Prompt comes the response from the back row. "Yeah. And we don't give a f*** about animals."

Global classroom

The reality of international interaction really came through today in the Mergers & MBOs class. Prof. Paulo Volpin commented that 'So, eefectively, ve see Germany has a pooor accounting seestem." To which, immediately, a German pounced up and said, "I don't go with this result," and proceeded on a defence of why the system was right for Germany. A few other Germans joined in. Poor Prof. Volpin had to make a hasty retreat. Later, when making a similar comment about Belgium, he first clarified: "Are there any Belgians in the class?"

A while later, he gave an example in China. One of his friends, a consultant, told him that the Chinese sometimes picked a well-running company and forced it to go bankrupt, just to show the World Bank that their bankruptcy system was working fine. A Chinese practically shouted out that bankruptcy protection was needed, because otherwise 20,000 labourers would be in the streets, and this stupid consultant obviously was not aware of what really happened, because the Government had lots of bad companies to make bankrupt, so why would they pick a good one?

Today's case discussion was on a Japanese company called Koito. A Japanese is in our team, and he was often asked to comment on what he felt was the situation. He didn't speak much in class, really. During the break, he came over to me and said, "You know, I would like to speak much. But I cannot. My English is not very good." As with most Japanese, his entire education was in Japanese, and while he did have some courses in written English, there were almost none in Japanese.

One of the slides was a comparison of market capitalizations of various countries. India was not found on the list. So the Japanese turned to me, politely, and asked "Where is India?" Naturally, I didn't feel like telling him that the Bombay Stock Exchange had a market capitalization so small that it wouldn't have been possible to put it on the table.

Well, so much for globalization!

The standard of class participation is extraordinary, though. For example, when we were discussing the EMI-Warner Music merger that was called of recently, one person commented, "Last week I was talking with a Director of EMI, and he said the reason was such-and-such." I mean, we have people who've actually been involved in some of these deals in class! I feel like a baby when I open my mouth.

But that proved not quite the case, actually. We were discussing the Koito case and I did open my mouth on a couple of occasions. During the break, Prof. Volpin comes up to my desk and says, "So, Anand, you seem to know quite a bit about the Koito case. How come?" I mumbled something about Internet searches. Guess there's something to be said for IIM-B after all...

Scanned Target magazine

I've scanned a couple of more pages of Target that have the job profile of the LBS graduating class of 2000 and the summer of MBA 2001. Incidentally, this magazine also publishes a complete list of who's joined which company. Really neat idea, great for contacts.

Hampton Court Palace

Stonehenge is jinxed. To those who don't know, Stonehenge its a bunch of huge rocks from pre-historic Britain, and no one knows why they're there. I tried to visit it last week, but had to cancel the trip and lost about 50 pounds. (No, I don't want to know what that is in Rupees.) So this Sunday, we'd planned to go again. I called up this Magical Tour Company, which offered tours for just 22 pounds, and said, "I want to go to Stonehenge on Sunday." The guy on the phone took my credit card number and said OK.

Sunday morning, I wake up at 6AM, get ready, and go to Great Portland Street, where the bus is supposed to pick us up. I was with my cousin, Vishnu, and my classmate, Pallavi. The operator says, "Dear me, sorry, there was a mistake, and we had accidentally put you down on YESTERDAY's tour. Not to worry -- there's place today." Good.

We get on. The operator says, "Welcome to the tour of Hampton Court Palace and Windsor Castle." So I walk up to him and say, "Excuse me, aren't we going to Stonehenge?"

"Oh, I see, so that's what the confusion is. You see, we go to Stonehenge only on Saturdays. So the guy at the desk must have put you down for yesterday. We were worried when you didn't turn up..."

"Very nice of you. But I don't want to go to Hampton whatever, I want to go to Stonehenge. So when's the next tour? Can I take it?"

"Afraid not, sir." Classic British accent. "You see, we'd put you down for yesterday, and we're giving you seats today instead. We had to turn down 20 others yesterday. So if we have extra seats on the next tour, we may be able to accomodate you, but otherwise, it would have to be on the 25th of November."

Wonderful. So we decide to go to these two places. The journey along the countryside itself was worth it, though. We went past the Thames (pronounced Temz) several times. Lots of boating teams were practising -- probably Oxford or Cambridge. Those who read Archer's "Dougie Mortimer's Right Arm" in 'A Quiver Full of Arrows' would know about the famous Oxford vs Cambridge boat races. Then we went past a place called Richmond Hill, where an apartment typically costs 5 million pounds. Lots of famous people live there apparantly, but I couldn't recognize a single name.

The best part, however, was the grass. The empty countryside itself was so green that I wonder what grass that is treated would look like. The scenes in Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge are no exxageration -- the European countryside is really splendid. We also passed some classic English estates -- with dogs and geese and all that -- and the place where the Magna Carta was signed.

Hampton Court Palace is where Henry VIII lived. He's the one that had 6 wives, and here's what happened to them: beheaded, divorced, survived, beheaded, divorced, died. The Palace in itself was beautiful. But even better was the garden behind it. Lovely green, as usual. Had a fountain and a pool. There were geese, swans and ducks all over the place. These animals look extremely well fed. They weren't the least bit scared of people (though I was fairly apprehensive of touching one). So I happily ended up finishing off a whole role -- mostly filled with close-ups of these birds.

The Hampton Court Palace also boasted of a maze. So we went in. It's just a maze made of bushes, and fairly small. So we went in at 10:55AM. I of course knew that if we kept the opening wall to our right, we'd get back to the starting point. But after all, it's a small maze. So we explored. It was all fine until about just past 11, so we decided to get back. We turned, and followed what looked like the path we came along. No. Dead end. 11:05AM. OK, other people are lost. So let's just walk around. Another dead end. Walk a little more. Pallavi's commenting that the path looks very familiar. So what? Walk on a little more. We ended up in the same place we were about 5 minutes ago. 11:10AM. Turn around, walk on a more promising path. Pallavi again comments that we've been here, and it turned out that it was exactly the same spot she'd mentioned earlier. We'd been walking around in circles. Now panic begins to set in. We got to a place that was just one bush away from the entrance, and wanted to scream to be let out. But that would've bruised our egos too much. Besides, there were some people who had been with us in the maze who were walking outside. So let's give it another try. By hit and trial, we kept trying path after path, until we were out at about 11:20AM. Whew!

The crazy part is, the maze was amazingly small from the outside. But inside, it gave 'labyrinthine' a whole new meaning.

Then we went to the Royal Tennis Court, where someone was learning something that looked like a cross between tennis and squash. Then to the Royal Kitchen, which at its peak would have empoyed about a 100 people and fed 600. After that, it was on to the Windsor Castle.

The Windsor Castle is the largest inhabited castle. That's where the Queen stays on weekends (not this one, though). We walked past the roads, which looked exactly as they were in the Georgian times. The grass, as always, was terribly green. We didn't go inside the castle, though. We chose to eat at a pub and visit the Eton school. Apparantly, that's where the Royal family sends their children to study, and it's the poshest school in England -- perhaps the world. It was closed to visitors, but I took a snap of some of the boys. Who knows who's royalty?

A day well spent. But I intend getting to Stonehenge. Someday.

LBS vs IIMB

How would I compare LBS against IIM-B so far? Let's see.

• Faculty: LBS probably wins marginally. More famous faculty, more industry experience, better communication. But like I said, marginal.
• IT infrastructure: IIM-B wins!
• IT management: LBS wins. They manage what they've got extremely well.
• Companies coming for placement: LBS wins.
• Placement process: Debatable. IIM-B definitely has a more student-friendly process.
• Library: Books-wise, IIM-B wins. Electronic resources-wise, LBS wins.
• Students: Comparable. Too early to tell the difference probably. The point is, however, that everyone in LBS has a lot of work-experience.
• Campus: IIM-B wins hands down. I mean, LBS faces Regent's Park and all that, but it doesn't really have a campus.
• Lecture rooms: LBS wins marginally. Slightly better rooms, better equipment.
• Hostel: IIM-B wins. LBS doesn't have one.
• Location: LBS wins. Heart of London.
• Exchange programmes: LBS wins.

LBS is ahead, but not by far.

Today, I saw a train coming late for the first time. The British Rail comes to the Ilford station at minutes ending in 3 (11:03, 11:13, etc.) Today, the train was TWO MINUTES late. Two whole minutes. Probably because it was raining. I hear people complain about the punctuality of these trains.

Well, most of the day was spent at the computer center doing assignments. If you want a flavour of what I'm doing, check out my report on Koito, which is about Pickens trying to take over Koito.

Another day at LBS

We made some vatha kozhambu at home this morning. Now, you'll have to take my word for it, because we ourselves weren't very convinced. But it was hot. It was thick. And though it had too much tamarind, it tasted great (or so we say). After that heavy bruch, it was time for LBS.

I think I'm the slowest typist at LBS. The speed at which the keyboards chatter around me is incredible. So fast, in fact, that I lose my nerve and tend to make mistakes or type slowly. The guy to my right, for example, is glued to the monitor and is typing about 3 characters for every keystroke of mine. So far, he hasn't pressed backspace. Luckily, the lady to my left is using the mouse more than the keyboard!

We had the second group meeting of our 'Dynamics of Strategy' group yesterday. The group has 2 Indians, 2 Germans and a Mexican. The first meeting of our 'Mergers & MBOs' course was today, and that group has 1 Indian, 1 German and 1 Japanese. Actually, the accent is the least of the problems. It's getting to figure out a way of working that's the real hurdle. But the good part is, everyone's focused, willing to take initiative, and follow guidelines. No problems so far.

BCG gave their presentation today. Extremely impressive. About 3 managers, 2 partners and 5 consultants came for the presentation. 2 of them presented, and the presentation was entirely about the life of a consultant. Not the technical life -- no. It was largely insights into the social life. They explained why they came to consulting, how they felt the thrill in consulting, how they balanced their family life, had to make compromises, etc. It seemed very balanced. The best part was a video which involved BCG's clients, family members of BCG consultants, and ex-BCG employees, but no BCG employees at all. That proved an excellent way of telling us what it's really about. I'll hand it to BCG for doing things in style.

My first Oxford Street suit

After a group meeting, we went to 'The Biz', a restaurant inside LBS. They served some kind of rice with curry containing lots of vegetables. I ate rather well and found it quite edible, until I heard the price. 3.50 pounds, or about Rs. 233. Roughly what my sandwich cost in Tokyo. Very nice.

I needed a suit for the Boston Consulting Group presentation tomorrow, so the afternoon was largely a shopping exercise. I took the tube to the Bond Street station, and walked along Oxford Street. It's something like the Brigade Road of Bangalore, I guess. The first shop I walked into had been strongly recommended by my cousing (Vishnu) -- Ciro Citterio. Luckily they had BIG banners outside saying "Sale!", and had 99 pounds written boldly, so I had the guts to walk in. (Of course, I didn't convert. I don't fancy buying suits for Rs. 6,650).

A salesman walked up and said, "Hey, my man! Can I get you a suit?"

"Uh, yes please. Actually, this is the first time I'm really shopping for a suit, and I'm a complete social moron, so why don't you help me?"

He walks me up to some hep-looking suits and says, "You should be about 38, my man. So how about these?"

"Wonderful. Excellent. Are they 99 pounds?"

Stops on his tracks. Turns around. Says, "Oh!" and walks me down to another section. Points at a whole rack of suits, says "They're all 99 pounds."

"Why are they on sale?"

I must admire his sense of self-control. He probably mentally awarded me the 'Naive Question of the Year' award, and said, "Because, my man, no one bought them for a long time, and we're clearing them out." Suits me fine. So I try out a couple of suits, decide to try other shops, and then come back.

The next visit was to Marks & Spencer's on Oxford Street. Nice place, but I don't know what the fuss is all about. Looks pretty much like Stopper's Shop to me, and considering that this is London, probably a whole lot cheaper. There were quite a few suits for 99 pounds too, but Ciro Citterio was offering a shirt and tie for free (upto 30 pounds) along with it.

From there, took the Underground to Notting Hill gate (yes, the same Notting Hill as the movie) and then to High Street Kensington. (If all the names sound familiar, you've been playing Monopoly.) There's a shop called Amazon there which had a suit for 79 pounds. Yes, I said 'a suit', because they had one. But I didn't like it. So it was the tube again, this time to Fulham Broadway. More shops, and none with what I wanted. Back to Bond Street station and Ciro Citterio. Now I'm the proud owner of an Oxford Street suit.

A day at LBS

Well, apparantly LBS has just had its lecture theatres (LTs) newly made! Which is why they look so good, I hear. At least, the Professors keep commenting about how new the LTs are, and how they're unused to it and all that.

This afternoon, Pallavi, another exchange student, an MBA 2001 student and myself, got together and ran a series of mock interviews. LBS' consulting club has some very good material on case interviews.

Today we had a lecture on 'World Economy: Problems and Prospects'. Professor Andrew Scott was awfully funny. We discussed the reason for the growth of the US Economy today. Well, we're still not too sure why it grew, but IT may be part of the reason. Following the lecture, Nick Craft, a guest lecturer from the London School of Economics, came and gave an interesting talk on the same. Bit of a problem with his slides, though. Self-admittedly, he failed arts in school, and his combination of a bright green gradient against a purple background can leave no stomach unturned. Looks like this course is going to have guest lecturers in each class, and they all look like big shots.

Deloitte PPT

Deloitte Consulting gave a presentation today for campus recruitment. Apparantly, we have to be in business suits to sit in any of the presentations! But luckily, since Deloitte has an informal culture, they said 'business casual' was OK. I squeaked past with just a tie. Need to buy a suit!

The hall could seat about 100 people, and was full. Of course, you had to sign 24 hours in advance to get in, and they take attendance outside the hall. I took a copy of their annual report (which they were distributing outside) and sat in the front row. A huge contingent had come for the presentation: 1 big shot from manufacturing, 1 senior HR person, the liason for LBS and DC, 3 managers, 2 senior consultants, and 2-5 others who had recently joined!

After about 20 minutes of a snappy presentation (the usual stuff, telling us about the companies), I took out my notebook. I wanted to see if LBS was really as 'aggressive' in asking questions as all these people made them out to be. Once the floor was thrown open to questions, no one jumped up. Slowly, one guy stood up, and said, "I'm in the Masters in Finance programme. I want to know how you can use us people in Deloitte Consulting. Or are you here for recruiting MBAs only?" To which they said they've got financial services consulting, their own corporate finance department, and they value the analytical skills & valuation capabilities of finance people anyway.

The other questions (and answers) were:

1. When you joined Deloitte Consulting, you must have had an impression about consulting. How has that changed? ("Good question." Then they proceeded to give a vague answer.)
2. How are projects and consultants assigned to each other? (I asked this. They told me their system. Sounds pretty much like what we had at IBM. Meaning, you know the right guys, you get what you want. Apart from that, keep trying.)
3. Do you really do implementation? (Yes, yes, yes. They were emphatic. Seems to be their key point.)
4. We've heard the same thing from all consulting companies. What distinguishes you? (End-to-end consulting, willingness to listen to customers. The same guy then said, "It sounds the same...")
5. How do you segment your services? (They'd covered this in the presentation, and went through it again. Basically, by function, by industry, by geography.)
6. Could you comment on your turnover? (It's 20%. It's shot-up, largely because of the dot-com fever. But lots of people who left are coming back. They handled this question extremely well.)
7. What will the SEC say to your staying together as a firm? (Good question. DC believes there's value in staying together.)

My observations are: no, they're not that much more aggressive. But their questions were better. In the sense, they were asking stuff that they really wanted to know, and they wanted to know a lot. Secondly, the good questions were either those that addressed something a lot of people wanted to know, or pointed out something interesting about the company that might affect our careers. Guess research pays -- both into the company as well as into ourselves!

Anyway, today we had a class on 'Advanced Financial Analysis and Shareholder Value'. I don't know why, but Prof. Chris Higson reminded me quite a bit of Dustin Hoffman in 'Hook'. The same accent: something to do with the way he held his teeth, I think. Anyway, the class was interesting.

One thing about the classrooms is, they're closed and sound-proof. So sound really travels. Which means, of course, that there must be pin-drop silence in the class. The lecturer is heard even when mumbling, and so are the front-benchers (who thereby avoid cries of 'Loudly, please!' :-)

Incidentally, Prof. Higson mentioned that Gary Hamel (whose room I walked passed and nearly fell at the doorstep) has patented the word 'core competence'. So every time we use it for non-academic purposes, he can send an invoice!

Projects are starting up. We've had 3 classes so far, formed 3 groups, and are looking for 3 companies to do projects on. Some things never change!

Infrastructure at LBS

The session on Mergers, MBOs and other corporate reorganizations by Paulo Volpin started 5 minutes late. Reason: They had a problem with the computer projector. Fixing it turned out to be a hi-tech exercise, though. A guy came in with some kind of a hand-held device, pointed it around like a remote control, and the projector was on. 6:05PM -- 5 minutes lost.

5 minutes later, "IP address conflict". The Professor gives up and moves on to trusty slides. He came prepared.

Their IT isn't all bad, though. In fact, it's rather good. They have mail terminals scattered around the place for people to check e-mail, without having to go to the Computer Center.

The computer center isn't far away, though -- just across the road -- about twice the distance from the IIM-B hostels to the Computer Center.

What's lovely, though, is their audio-video system. They have one in each room, and the control panel looks lovely.

Their chairs are awful, though. The seats are cramped. There are no arm-rests. They don't move. They're too close to the table. (OK, I'm fat.) They aren't shaped to my back. Anyway, to sit there for 3 hours on those chairs for a fidgety guy like me is tough.

Couldn't tell much about the Professors. So far, they look just like IIM-B professors. The students on the other hand, are something exceptional. Each has tremendous work experience (a prerequisite for getting into IIM-B in the first place). There's

• a Russian consultant who used to work for BCG for 5 years (before you ask: he wants to become an I-Banker -- that's why he's here)
• an English lady who started a company called WorldCom (no, not that one: she sold the name to THE WorldCom :-)
• an American IBMer who worked at Lehman Brothers for summers (his name is Stephen, and he's not me, and I've never heard of him)
• an English VP from Lehman Brothers
• a French film production expert about to join UBS Warburg

and lots more.

LBS experiences

Today was my first class at the London Business School, and I've written up my experiences on day 1. I plan to keep updating it.

Placement magazine

LBS' placement cell publishes a magazine called Target, some of whose pages I've scanned. It gives an idea about what consulting and finance is, what companies look for, how to prepare for interviews, alumni feedback, etc. Sorry about the small size of scanning, but I had to conserve disk space. I'll bring the book to IIM-B when I come back.