Investment Bankers

Investment Bankers, bah, Investment Bahenchods. I am getting sick of the entire lot. Their every move is headline news. For example, yesterday's top business story is that Goldman Sach's top trader drives a Honda Civic. Last week, the company visits of Citibank, UBS and Credit Suisse sent SMU into a collective orgasm. All over this university, people are either studying finance subjects or applying for investment banking internships. Lest I be lynched by the people who know me, I did read that story, have that orgasm (and clutching my crotch, attend those talks), I do finance and applied for 4 investment banking internships in 3 days.

This doesnt mean I can't hate the phenomenon.

Its insane to fawn upon the world of high finance when all they do is arrange deals for companies doing more real-world, difficult stuff. Who you think puts the Invest in Investment Banking. Companies, high-net-worth individuals, insurance companies and pension funds provide the stardust and frog's blood for investment bankers to work their evil magic. Through the latter two institutions, you and I give the IBahens a tidy chunk of their holdings. Why do we not adore the CEOs and managers who manage to sell us bread, butter, cheese, milk, tea, coffee, soap, water and electricity. Life would be shitty without those things, while life without you're 12% returns would still chug along at a merry pace. Yes, I know, investment banks help consumer companies function. According to that logic, we should admire the legal, operations and advertising departments of these consumer goods firms. But we dont. And that's wrong.

So please dont apply for those internships.

Dipping a toe into old bath water

"Oh no, another fool with a blog" you moan. Well, play nice, I'm scared o.k. I'm supposed to be a decent writer (atleast by SMU standards), and if my first post sucks, people will not read this page again. That would be a pity. Really. This is because the vast majority of my posts will educate and entertain thou on two beautiful islands, Sri Lanka and Singapore. The former is beautiful in the tourist brochure, rustic way, chock full of smiling people, temples, beaches, monuments and cheap knock-off designer clothing. The latter is beautiful in that it showcases man's ability to make paradise out of hell. Formerly a pirate infested, swampy hellhole, it is a today a safe haven in a world of lunacy and makes so much money it could bury Sri Lanka in its ugly fifty dollar notes.

Which home do you love more you may ask? That's like asking if I love my new father-in law more than my natural mother. I love Sri Lanka a lot more than I do Singapore, but, that may be only because I've come to Singapore to study, work and earn. I'm still getting the hang of the place, its people and its problems. It is entertaining to laugh at the midget nation once in a while, but I find myself defending it agaisnt my friends who study/work elsewhere. "So what if you have the original Ministry of Sound? It must be just full of loser white sods. In Singapore its got hot women, great music and a thumping atmosphere. You can dance with you're girlf all night without fighting off some drunken monkeys. Even desis are well behaved here".

I've left my mother behind though. I miss her cooking, her conversation, her warm embrace and my influence over her. I yearn to return to Sri Lanka as a man. I want to die an important SRI LANKAN man. I want to live to see peace, prosperity and few more cricket World Cups come to Sri Lanka. I want to see my mother become to India/Pakistan as Singapore is to Indonesia/Malaysia.

It is in this hope that I write, that my words can move you to care about my islands.

P.S. to finish my metaphor, my father was my old Colombo playboy lifestyle. A life of arrogance, apathy, sloth and stupidity. I dont know whether my father kicked me out of the house or whether I left it. I dont really care.

P.S.S SMU is the Singapore Management University, where I am imprisoned for the forseeable future.