This Agreement and all questions of its interpretation shall be construed in accordance with the laws of the Republic of India.  Subject to the arbitration clause in this Agreement, the courts at Chennai shall have exclusive jurisdiction in respect of all matters relating thereto, and each of the Parties hereto hereby consents to the exclusive jurisdiction of such courts (and of the appropriate appellate courts therefrom) in any suit, action or proceeding brought in terms of this Agreement and irrevocably waives, to the fullest extent permitted by law, any objection which it may now or hereafter have to the venue of any such suit, action or proceeding in any such court or that any such suit, action or proceeding which is brought in any such court has been brought in an inconvenient form.

Got lost in the last few lines there? You’re not alone. That’s the heftiest governing law / jurisdiction clause I’ve ever seen in a contract!

The thing is– that’s not necessarily a sign of good contract drafting.

This Agreement shall be governed by Indian law, and courts at Chennai shall have exclusive jurisdiction in respect of all matters relating thereto.

That means exactly the same thing in law.

(I think!)

#1

Tall, cool, chilled out. Doesn’t care what you do as long as the work gets done. Leaves you alone otherwise. Drinks like a fish. Has a short, pretty wife.

#2

Joker. And not in the Perakath sort of way. How he became a partner is beyond me. Likes to point out what he deems “typos” and “grammatical errors” in my drafts (there’s no better way to annoy me) while evading comment on the legal issues. Takes 45 minutes over what anyone could accomplish in 15. Rambles in neverending loops about what needs to be done, instead of just doing it. Always mentions whether the client is high-paying or low-paying. Comes late and leaves early, while picking on me for coming in after 9.30. And, the worst bit– types out emails and leaves them on his computer, then gets someone else to send them two hours after he leaves, so that clients think he’s working late in the office. Forefinger and thumb to the forehead, I tell you. But all that apart, a nice guy and undoubtedly a doting father.

# 3

An exceptional lawyer. And not just because he recognises and rewards my abilities. Stunning breadth of legal knowledge, from company law to criminal procedure. Possibly the only person in the office who can be seen sitting at his desk and writing, rather than tapping away at a keyboard. Types with two fingers, like my dad, and makes in one month what my father makes in a year. (We had to fill out some visa forms recently, where income had to be entered. The ratio of our respective monthly incomes is 52:1. I view it as hope for my future!)

What if Dream Theater had an another singer? One just as capable, but with a deeper, throatier, more mainstream voice?

It boggles the mind, it does.

My mind, at least.

And many others’.

PS

This just goes to prove that whatever you may think of his tone, James LaBrie actually does sing very well– he’s powerful and accurate. (In the studio, at least.)

PPS

Original voice clip:

Saturday! I’m so happy. What a busy work week it’s been. And this is my LAST working Saturday with this firm! From November onwards we work only 5 days a week! Unless of course the admin in Delhi decides to revert to working 2 or all Saturdays a month. Brrr. Cancel cancel!

I do like Saturday mornings at work though. Noone with more than 2 years of experience ever shows up before 11 am. And we get to wear mufti– ‘colour clothes’, as we used to call them in school. (We could wear them on our birthdays and on Children’s Day. On Children’s Day the teachers would also put up an entertainment for us.  Whoever came up with the idea for Children’s Day– may they rest in peace.) So this morning I’m sitting in my near-empty office, wearing a half-sleeve with black jeans and nice brown shoes… and tripping on music!

The music system in my car has been giving me trouble for the last month or two. A couple of weeks ago it conked out entirely. It’s been “repaired” twice already, and I  don’t have the money to replace it. So I’ve been managing without music, except for the limited selection on my phone, which I keep on my lap and play through its loudspeaker as I drive. But there’s only so many times you can listen to the same selection in the same order: Keane – The Killers – Chris Brown – Eddie Vedder – RCHP – Santana – Dido – Pain of Salvation – Keane…

And I hardly listen to music at home these days too. My CD collection is still in one of my trunks, packed away as it was all those months ago in Delhi. I usually play a few perfunctory songs off the laptop before I pass out every night, but I’m tired of the limited stuff on my laptop, and it’s a far cry from my student life, when every waking minute in my room was spent with music playing.

This morning, though, it struck me that I do have a perfectly good mp3 player with earphones. (Not an overpriced iPod– this is a little Philips that has been great value for money over the years and doubles as a pen drive.) I know it’s not really safe, but I figure I can get away with driving with earphone music for a few weeks– until I have a bit of cash and can buy a new car stereo.

And so I’ve discovered the joy of listening to new music on the morning drive– not the same old Dream Theater CD in the car (and certainly not the crappy Madras radio), but new albums I’ve downloaded but haven’t had time to listen to yet. The Black Eyed Peas, Muse, Lady GaGa, Thirteen Senses. (It all sounds very poppy, I know, but its great fun listening to pop albums. It’s popular music for a reason. And Muse is a very respectable rock band. So there!)

(Plus, Thirteen Senses are fantastic; you should definitely check them out if you like Death Cab / The OC-type music and you haven’t already.)

Whatever’s available to put you in a good mood in the morning, right?

Sometimes I wish the Nokia dictionary would recognise a few more Indian English spelling variants.

One fellow got a dvd player. (And then realised he doesn’t own a television to hook it up to.)

Another got a large box of sweets. A third, a blanket.

One lucky bitch got a month’s salary.

Over the last few days my Facebook news feed has been full of people proclaiming what they were gifted as Diwali gifts from their places of work. It seems to be the done thing in offices  across India– which means, of course, that law firms take pride in excepting themselves from the custom.

Diwali gift for Perakath? I had to chip in for presents for the office staff, and have been asked to come in on the actual day of Diwali for a bleedin’ puja. Lawyers are such masofuckingchists.

…

And then came the email from the firm headquarters in Delhi.

From next month, our offices will have 5-day work weeks! No more working on Saturdays! (Except for the litigation team, who’ll have to come in for a few hours to prepare for the cases listed on Monday mornings.)

This has to be my reward for having only a bowl of fruit for lunch this afternoon!

Journalist

Hmm. I need to write a story this week. Just like last week, and like I will need to next week. Contributing more useless drivel to the plethora of opinions out there that people like to read. Then they feel well-informed and happy that they’re such smart, progressive people.

What shall I write about this week? Hey, weren’t there some attacks on Indians in Australia a while ago? I don’t blame the Aussies, personally. Sometimes I too feel like going around with a stick and thrashing every fucking loser I see on the road.

Anyway, can’t write about that now. It’s been too long and the fuss has died down.

Hmm. What can I write about?

Hey!!! Maybe people would be interested in reading a story on what percentage of cases in Indian courts are being fought between two government departments! Yes, I’m sure they’d find that scintillating on-the-pot reading material. Ah, I’m so brilliant. Let me go have a smoke on the balcony and look down the blouses of the women in the parking lot to celebrate.

…

Boss

Where’s that Perakath? Late again, as usual. How hard is it for him to be at his desk at 9.30 every morning? I know I called the office from home and gave him some inane research to do at 9.30 last night, but last night is last night, it’s not this morning, is it? He’s had the entire night to rest. The new day is a new day, and he should be here on time.

…

Perakath

Fuck, ya. I’m going to be late again. It’s 8.10 and I haven’t even gotten out of bed. I’d better rush and get ready.

But first, I’ll watch an episode of Friends over bread-and-cheese breakfast.

…

Boss

Perakath– late again. You’re obviously not a morning person. Anyway, did you find any cases on the subject I asked you to look up last night?

Perakath

Yes, sir. I found that…

Boss

Never mind. Drop that for now. What I want you to do for me now is: Someone I know who writes for ___ is doing a piece on the percentage of cases in Indian courts that are being fought between two government departments. He’s asked for my help. Just see what you can round up, no?

…

Perakath

It’s always such a joy to do someone else’s job for him! These journalists really research their stories well.

1. Do you think SB needs a template revamp?

2. Do you think SB could do with a blogroll?

3. Do you think I’m a f*cking freak for always, always changing the paper setting from “Letter” to “A4″ in a print job?

4. Do you think I’m a f*cking freak for being less comfortable with the free use of ‘fuck’ on Facebook and this blog than I was a year or two ago?

5. WHY DOESN’T THE DEFAULT PAPER SIZE CHANGE TO A4 IF YOU TELL IT TO? You damned Americans and your “letter”-sized paper.

Brainwave, I’ve had. Brainquake, even.

I’ve decided to join an expen-facking-sive gymnasium on TTK Road, close to my office… and slip out for a workout around lunchtime. Then I can shower and be back at my desk for lunch. Post lunch is when all the work gets done in a law firm, anyway.

How smart am I?

I think it’s a superb plan. This way, I don’t have to worry about waking up early in the am, working out, and feeling knackered by the time I sit down at my work computer in the morning. This way, I also don’t have to worry about leaving work early in the pm (8 o’ clock at the latest) in order to be able to get in a full workout before the stupid trainers close up the place.

This way, I’ll also be able to meet the sort of women who go to the gym at 1 o’  clock in the afternoon (and are doubtless looking for a pudgy, balding lawyer to spice up their love lives). It’s such a cunning plan, from all angles!

I AM going to join a gym and get back into shape, I tell you. There was a period in my life when I had no qualms about taking off my shirt, you know, and I AM going to get back to a similar state. Am, am, am.

…

Tomorrow.

It’s my first Working Sunday tomorrow.

I take this opportunity to record my thanks and gratefulness to the esteemed client who didn’t deem it necessary to tell me that some of his colleagues are travelling, and that therefore a draft of the contract has to be ready for him by Monday morning, until this Saturday afternoon.

They really fucking don’t pay me enough for this job.