Novice Poker Effect

It had been a while since I had been sent out of a classroom… the last time this happened, I think It was in the OOPs lab in 2008, well teachers wouldn’t get offended that easily in UVCE I guess... anyway it was an interesting class of rural marketing and I seemed to be interested, but sadly I was caught fiddling with the phone and making some kinda tattoo on my hand and the teacher took offence at it and pushed me out of the class. But what I was googling about was the Myths involved in Rural Marketing. I’m not gonna bore you with what I found, heres a snap shot. 

Something I remember from class held my attention for a long time. The prof had said ‘One of the biggest myths about rural marketing is that the marketers think we rural buyers don’t ask many questions, they ask more questions than urban buyers, they are smarter than the urban buyer. They sometimes ask questions that seem silly and make you laugh, but we fail to find answers to such questions and that’s what makes rural marketing more challenging.’

Yes, we’ve heard this being said a lot of times. It’s almost a cliché. But something doesn’t fit right, does it? How could rural buyers with less exposure and information about what’s happening be harder to outsmart? Why would they be harder to sell to? Why do they ask harder questions? Why are they tougher to convince? Do they know what we’re trying to do from before? Not really. I like to call it, The Novice Poker Effect.

It happened roughly 2 years ago; out of boredom I decided to teach my cousin how to play poker and tried to play him a little. I couldn’t read him, I couldn’t bluff him, I thought he bluffed when he played simple and I obviously lost. The reason is simple. A novice poker player is not playing you, he is just playing his cards. It’s the same with Rural Marketing, a rural buyer is just playing what’s on his cards, he isn’t bothered about what or why a marketer is trying to sell. 

We could conclude that a rural buyer is not smart; he’s just like a novice poker player. Hard to read, hard to pick up trends and hard to know what he wants. It’s this Novice Poker Effect that makes us think a rural buyer is smart. If we understand that the rural buyer just looks at things from his side and dont try anything fancy against him, we would succeed. 

So to round it up, learn to play poker with a kid, maybe you’ll excel in rural marketing.

Write Winged

Generally I start my Guest posts by talking a little about the guest author or just start off by writing something that would suit the mood, but here I dont think anything is required. Her write has such a beautiful flow that you just cant stop reading... so without boring you anymore... read....

 

I’m one of the aunts Sriharsha keeps speaking of in his blog (although you won’t know which one because there are five of us – at least, not unless he specifies it). Well, to put it more specifically, it’s the aunt whose kid’s article in “The Hindu” Harsha put up last week on the blog.

When Harsha asked if I would write something for his blog, I did not exactly jump at the offer because he caught me in a sort-of burnout from all the writing (non-stop almost) done over the past two years. But, agree I did, out of a sense of kinship – I could identify with the need to take a break from writing, and besides, how could I say no to my own nephew when I wrote for people I didn’t even know!!

Just for background – I’m presently a full-time Asst. Professor at a private college in Bangalore, and a freelance writer for online and print media.

How Writing Changed Me

I read this statement once that the more things change, the more they remain the same. It sounded strange and flawed at first glance and it set me thinking of things to refute this logic. I didn’t have to look too far because my own experience proved how a single step can be the gateway to a sea of change. A simple email I sent on a whim to a content writing firm in July 2010 turned out to be my induction into an entire new world – one filled with sitting non-stop at a newly-acquired laptop, learning to navigate through keyword specifications, subtitle and bulleted list requirements, avoiding run-on sentences, steering clear of plagiarism, ensuring what I write doesn’t put people to sleep etc etc etc.

My perspective widened

As I began researching and writing, every single topic I worked on helped to contribute to my knowledge. Being an avid reader, I enjoyed the process of finding information on topics that I would never otherwise have a reason to read about. Whether it was about starting a flower basket business, managing diabetes and hypertension, or dealing with a differently-abled child, choosing the right television antenna or retirement home, or becoming a basketball coach or taking up TOEFL and SAT, every article I wrote gave me information that helped me obtain an entirely new perspective.

I manage time better

In the beginning stages, it often took me around two hours to complete a 500-word article with more time being spent on researching than on the actual writing. Gradually, I learnt to manage time better by focusing first on information needed for the article. Simultaneously, I also maintained a list of the websites that had interesting information and visited those at leisure for my personal reading. Besides, it came to my notice that completing the assignment became simple if I began with the easy part and then went on to tackle the part that appeared difficult. As I grew adept at using this system, the time required for the 500-word, good quality article came down to about one hour and currently hovers to between 35 to 45 minutes.

Empathy increased

With time, I noticed that all my articles which garnered praise were the ones that had a basic simplicity to them – they were the ones that spoke directly and honestly to the reader. This taught me how important it is for a writer to be able to identify with the needs of the audience. Ever since, I make it a point to read my own writing from the viewpoint of the intended reader, making corrections every time I find that fancy words detract from the meaning of what I’m trying to convey. I’ve found that this has also helped me in the classroom – I’m now more sensitive to the requirements of my students and tailor my teaching to ensure they receive relevant information in an engaging format.

Taking criticism is now easier

There is one thing that is more unpleasant than writing on a difficult topic – rewriting it. Not only do you have to start from a new angle, you are also burdened with the emotional baggage that is often a result of a hurt ego. Writing has taught me to face criticism with equanimity. As I continue writing, I have developed the ability to face up honestly to my mistakes. More importantly, it has taught me to take the occasional unduly harsh comment in my stride without letting it bruise my self-confidence.

However, as I continue mulling it over, perhaps the person who made that statement (a quick search on Google shows it’s part of a song by Bon Jovi) is not entirely wrong. After all, I was writing something unique at every point of time – whether it was the answers that my classmates copied in their homework books, the meticulous notes in college that friends swore by or the articles I now write.  Besides, there is one thing that has still remained the same – the joy and thrill that I experience every time I sit down to write.

Whew!! That’s quite a lot I’ve written, and I hope you managed to make your way through without losing interest…I’d love to hear what you think…..so do write in with comments.

~Anu

Timepass for real??

The name of this blog, Dr Timepass was something I came up in my first year college for a nerd band, we thought it was geeky enough and also had a little word play involved. We thought Time would eventually pass and swallow if not solve everything.  It’s not much, but if you had academic and romantic setbacks early in college, then this line can mean a lot. We would live strong thinking about the future; thinking that these times would just pass.  

Can time really heal? I always doubted.

Most of my learning and revelation happens at work, a certain Wednesday of March 2012 was something similar. The wooden wall décor in the meeting room of 8^th floor reminded me of a bed time story my father would tell me when I was little. 

I’ll try to keep it short :D

The story is of a young boy. He was a very mischievous and rather rough sort of a kid. He would fight with his friends at school, knock things off shelves in grocery stores and things like that. His father would be badly hurt by the complaints brought by the other people in the neighborhood. But he never raised his voice to scold or yell at his son. Instead, he went to the market and got a plank of plywood and a hundred iron nails. He called his son and explained.

‘Look son, every time I get a complaint from someone I will hammer a nail into this board and at the end of the week, you can come see how many complaints I got and decide what you want to do about it’

The son being his rough and unruly-self walked out not bothering about it.

As days turned into weeks, the father would do his hammering of nails as the complaints increased. The boy never came and saw the plank. 

After a few months, the father was shocked and hurt to see that the plank was full of nails, and his son had never once come to see the plank.

The father went to his son and called him to see the plank. On seeing the wooden plank packed with hard iron nails something struck in him.

He would eventually realize his bad deeds and turn to the ways of good. His father would then tell the boy that it was never late to correct his mistakes and tell the boy that he would remove a nail whenever someone came around to praise the boy.

So, in time the boy turned to the ways of being good and earned a lot of love and respect. His father would also be happy on receiving praises of his son and would remove a nail each time.

When all the nails were removed of the plank, the boy stood by his father proud chested and asked what his father thought of him now. The father being a man of intellect, told him 

‘Observe closely, all the nails have been pulled out, but have the holes been filled?’

The boy would hang his head and then look up in remorse. 

‘What is once done cannot be undone. No matter how hard you try, the holes cannot be refilled.’

It brings us back to Dr Timepass. Is it really impossible to fill some holes? Does that mean the phrase “time heals” is bull crap? 

Ah time, so fascinating, so frightening, and so precious. I just wish I have enough time to fill those holes.

Forebite 2011

930 PM, and no calls yet. We had decided to welcome the New Year together. Old friends, some on the verge of making new bonds, some ready to run on the mystic untrodden roads, and of course one lost and brimmed with self pity. All of us knew that the eve of 2011 would be the last New Year’s Eve we would spend together. Maybe that was going to make it special. Or would it? It’s crossed 930. The food of dinner buffets would’ve long gone cold and dancers at dance parties already high on booze. Maybe the second part a plus, but apprehension gripped me as I began to think that they might’ve forgotten me or thought of leaving me behind. Fear of impending grief is worse than grief itself.   

The minute hand had just completed a full circle when the phone finally rang.

‘It’s an adult party, you sure you wanna join?’

The voice on the other side teased.

‘Come on dude! We grew up together, only because I don’t drink or smoke doesn’t mean I’m not an adult’

I reversed playfully, glad that they had not forgotten me. Maybe the fact that I was a full foot shorter and weighed 30 kilos less made him think I was still a kid, well that’ll have to stay with me for now or maybe forever, but it’s not something that deserves attention right now.

‘Where are we going?’

Came out a little too wary than it sounded in my head.

‘No idea. All pubs are full… maybe we’ll go to some dhaba or drink and puke on the streets. You just come down, we’re waiting outside.’

Sure, anarchy in numbers seems so much more rewarding than safety in solitude.

The crammed ’96 Maruti 800 took us on several straights and circles, thumbs down each dhaba. Close to midnight was when my nose first wrinkled. Bottles were raised and music played loud.

‘Happy New Year!’

 Shouted the first one to lose his head.

 ‘There’s still 10 minutes left Akshay, just sit down.’ I said, finding myself useful for the first time.

More ‘male bonding’ followed and it was finally time for the countdown… I kicked and yelled at the already half asleep males and promptly started counting down.

Happy New Year!! I shouted... Again... Happy New Year!! Excited and slightly embarrassed at being the only one to shout I turned around expecting to see 4 sleeping logs, only to find that my half asleep friends had found a reason to stay awake and laugh their throats out. Joining in, I laughed a bit and cursed them for not welcoming 2011. Only after laughing for a few more minutes did one of them say that 2011 had descended an hour ago and I was late and began laughing again. With no reason to hold back, I joined them with a hearty laugh.

Though the year crept upon me undetected, it brought joy and laughter. Maybe that’s all that matters. The dates, goals or targets I met this year don’t significantly matter… When i turn around to look at 2011, All I would remember is the time spent with loved ones, places I went, smiles and laughs I had, and these I will treasure as the best of 2011.