Train rides are always different for me. For most people, its about the thrill of the journey, the possibility of meeting new people, making friends and reaching the destination. For me, the paramount things are as follows: Getting a good seat, getting sufficient space to stow the luggage, not encountering any brash supremely extrovert people who become a nag, and most importantly, not encountering someone who would ask me for my seat. Basically, all I want is to be comfortable and left to my own devices. And I do mean devices - Laptop, phone, music player. And my books.
So I board the train, heading home for a brief sabbatical from work (work did end up haunting me via email, but that is a different rant for a different blog post perhaps). As the train proceeds, the couple across catch my attention (Yes, I tend to shun human contact and I may be an antisocial, sociopathic/sociopathetic mess, but nothing fascinates me as much as observing human behaviour). There is the token Business book (Corporate Chanakya) on the seat and She seems to be nagging Him about a startup venture he is planning. Apparently both have jobs and are planning to do something to break out of the monotony of being a corporate slave. In short - every inch of their being screams MBA. He has been working for some NGO developning online computer tutorials, and wants to branch out to the Hindi Speaking belt as an online only medium for computer lessons. He is reluctant speaking about it, as if opening up the box of debate will get his fragile dream to disappear like a delicate butterfly/will o the wisp. She is having a blast speaking, and monosyllabic responses is all that need be dropped to keep her keyed up. She keeps dropping her (probably) newly learnt jargon - Wow Factor, niche market etc. After a while, He excuses himself to go up and sleep.
Meanwhile, I have, of course, settled in with a book. But not to snugly of course. Because wouldn't you know it - The man entitled to the berth upstairs has ensconced himself comfortably on the lower berth (mine) at the cushiest spot - the one by the window where you can rest your back, have access to the table, enjoy the view and have the reading light just above you. Killjoy I think to myself, mildly irritated. I have no idea. So said encroacher then strikes up a conversation with the blabbermouth half of the aforementioned couple, previously and also henceforth to be referred to as She (Not in a devotional/awe struck Rider Haggard sense, but because I am too lazy to conjure up any other adjective laden nickname). He seems to be an MBA too. Same college to boot - Symbiosis. 1987 batch Mr. Encroacher. 2004 batch She. And then she is blabbering about hubby dearest's business venture. Asking for tips and opinions. He is an E-Marketer you see. Co-owns a start up. And he has been called up for expert advice. He is apparently the kind of person who loves the sound of his own voice and diction. Using 10 words where 4 would suffice, slowly savouring each syllable before delivering it, as if he were some self proclaimed wine connesseiur, pronouncing judgement at a Paris garden terrace bistro (Sudden Horrific Realisation: Is that me with my writing, writing just to see my words typed out, not really making much sense, rambling on and on for my benefit alone, contributing to nothing but electronic media related Carbon Footprints?).
Talk veers to Flipkart, how they changed the system, how small places now have access to deliveries of previously unprocureable goodies and books, their internal problems, their wait for Amazon to buy them out, their losses etc. Everygood thing that paves way for others must bleed red. Netscape, older search engines, the initial social networking sites (my theory, not theirs, though they would probably subscribe to it). Then he talks about how he combines his HR and Marketing acumen, the concept of Service Recovery and satisfying the customer. Just apologise and give them what he wants. Create a (here we go again) Wow Factor. And I suddenly realise, it is people like them that create the monster of Consumer Delight. My mind wanders back to Services Marketing and the radical Prof. Ananth Ram. This is how monsters are created I feel. It doesn't just instill a wow factor. It creates unrealistic expectations. Expectations that companies will have to bleed to keep up with. Inherently loss making propositions in the long run. Give them free goodies one day and they wont come back sweetly as loyal customers, pretending nothing happened. Because something did happen. They discovered a goose with a golden egg. So they will come back, with legions of their own. This time with greater expectations, lesser patience, demanding to be satisfied, because human wants have no limits. A line must be drawn somewhere. But not according to Le Encroacher. He would have dissatisfied customers getting exchange freebies at the drop of an exchange token from an overly burdened counter. A heavy Tweeter himself, he talks about the power of social media, the power to bring down companies and rattle CEO's. He only emphasizes the good of course. Not the blatant and unchecked use of this power by people to create ill informed jabs, trolls and the blatant misuse of this power to harass just because they can.
Talk has now gone on to how he took a leap of faith and started his own start up. His firm delivers E Marketing courses to MBA institutes, with he backing of IIM-A. Other institutes recoil a bit at this mention, he says, because they all know they are woefully inadequate compared to IIM-A. You can see the glow of pride at his startup's association with IIM-A. I believe, deep down, he has satiated his need to be associated with IIM-A to get rid of his own inadequacies at having graduated from a lesser School. You can see it in his face. His wife, an investment banker turned artist, who sells expensive art and murals, and now teaches yoga as well. The happy cushy life. Daughter is a swimming champion, and of course brilliant at studies. All brilliant, disciplined, happy people. Therefore, nothing that I can relate to. He talks about his penchant for conversations and friendships on a train. At this point, I realize how I shun all such conversation. They are contributers, creating conversation. I am the eternal parasite. Absorbing and contributing nothing. And I realize, I am a parasite in every aspect. I have only ever consumed, rarely created. And when I have created, it is itself insignificant, in-consumable. More relations are discovered, mutual set of parents at the same organisation, the Bhopal connection.
At some point, the snugly snoring Mr. Hubby, the beleagured He has been woken up to be made to partake in the conversation (something terribly grammatically wrong with the construction I conjured back there, but I am too lazy to probe and edit). He is now being given suggestions on his start up by Le Encroacher. This tie up, that Logo, this font, that layout of the website. Deals and Collaborations. The sand castle is conjured up like some modern, corporate monolith, looming on the horizon, as the work pile keeps lessening and the payload keeps increasing. Classic case of chicken coop ready and the biryani rice boiling, before the eggs have even been hatched. At some point Le Encroacher has lived up to his nickname and asked me to switch seats. Post dinner, I clamber up and ruminate at how delusions have permeated our modern society. I am also quite jealous at how happy and successful smart people are, and how I will never be one of those. But mostly musing on the delusions. Honestly. And all the while, the fire of unrealistic expectations and delusional golden chickens are stoked by not just a normal optimism, but a marketing optimism. And so the fire swirls. And the fire rises (hee hee hee, Batman Reference).
