Skip to main content

9 seconds to wisdom

A few days ago, I bid on a laptop table via ebay UK. I was sure I would win…and promptly went out to buy Gobi Manchurian, a personal favorite. So confident was I that I didn’t even bother monitoring the end of the auction, and instead settled for the idiot box. Logging into my laptop a few hours later, I had a minor shock. I had been outbid 9 seconds before the auction ended. I was amazed at how meticulously people chose to bid…and eventually win.

The same vendor relisted the same product a few days ago. This time I was ready. Someone placed the initial bid, I waited until the final 30 seconds before I made my move and placed the winning bid 6 seconds before the auction wound up!

I guess the outsmarted original bidder has learnt a lesson just like I had 2 weeks ago. Let wisdom propagate down the bidders!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This is what Bertrand Russell said about religion...

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. ... A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still