Its been 3 long years, since I have been bullish on Hinduja TMT (now split into Hinudja ventures and Hinduja Global). I have pushed the stock since it was in its 200s, now it is averaging about 550s, and HTMT Global still has around $100m in bank with a total valuation of less than 800 cr, which means you can buy a great business for around 400cr.
And yet, I have been proselyted.....
Yes, finally, I have moved out of the stock. Why and where?
I have most of my holdings onto 2 stocks, Webel SL Energy and Moser Baer. I picked up Webel SL Energy at 480-520 (when its Mcap was around 400cr) and Moser Baer at 280-330 (with a PE of 55).
Why have I moved? Why is the believer being proselyted?
Simple. Both of these stocks are alternative energy plays. I care very little for Moser's existing CD business, I think by 2010, if they actually build 500MW of capacity as planned, what too on solar power, photovoltaic power, Moser Baer's Solar business will far outstrip its CD business valuation.
Webel is currently having a capacity of 10MW, will move to 42MW by 2008 YE and 110 by 2010.
Watch out, oil is at $100, and these stocks are cheap.
The only risk? Execution, and large players like Reliance swamping their way in. How can we cover against the risk? No, we cannot. Just hope there is enough space for many players, or better still Reliance acquires one of them.
BTW, my price target on both is 2-3 times their current price by 2010 YE.
Someone told me, that Economic Times (which I hate and hence dont read), had Morgan Stanley push an "underweight" rating on Moser Baer with a 12 month target of 230.
Its battle time again. Me versus Mr. Market and of course Mr. Morgan. I sincerely believe, sometimes the meek can inherit the earth (as long as they are backed by the Sun's rays :-))
PS
Other stocks I really like Pyramid Saimara (CMP 450), M&M Financial(290), Nitin Fire (500), Cadila Healthcare (CMP 280), Mphasis (CMP 280), Polaris (CMP 96), HTMT Global (CMP 500)....If I had spare cash, I would pick these at any point.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Post 343 : Play of words
My gym seems to be a big fan of the songs of "Jab We Met".
Two lines seem from two different songs seem to have a lovely use of the world Aadha....
The first one is by "Tum Se Hi" by Mohit Chauhan, lyrics by Irshad Kamil .. There is part which says
Aadha sa wada kabhi
Aadhe se jayada kabhi
Jee chahe karlu is trah wafa ka
Chode na chote kabhi
Tode na tute kabhi
Jo dhaga tumse jud gaya wafa ka
Second part comes in the song called "Yeh Ishq Hai", by Shreya Ghosal, lyrics by Irshad Kamil again....
Todi mene sare hi bandhan zamane Tere
Todongi na mein vada
Aadha hissa mere to dil ki kahani ka tu
Piya Mein baaki aadha
I love the play of words here. Honestly, who said simple poetry cannot be great. No urdu, no complicated metaphors, simple minds, simple words.
Two lines seem from two different songs seem to have a lovely use of the world Aadha....
The first one is by "Tum Se Hi" by Mohit Chauhan, lyrics by Irshad Kamil .. There is part which says
Aadha sa wada kabhi
Aadhe se jayada kabhi
Jee chahe karlu is trah wafa ka
Chode na chote kabhi
Tode na tute kabhi
Jo dhaga tumse jud gaya wafa ka
Second part comes in the song called "Yeh Ishq Hai", by Shreya Ghosal, lyrics by Irshad Kamil again....
Todi mene sare hi bandhan zamane Tere
Todongi na mein vada
Aadha hissa mere to dil ki kahani ka tu
Piya Mein baaki aadha
I love the play of words here. Honestly, who said simple poetry cannot be great. No urdu, no complicated metaphors, simple minds, simple words.
Labels:
food of life
Post 342 : Haunting images....
In November, we had driven to Shirdi and back.
While driving to Shirdi, I remember at one point, we were on a dusty highway, with wind blowing and quite a bit of dust thrown around. We were ensconced with the comfort of an AC car.
The road was a 2 lane road, no divider all along. On either side a mud lane, acting as a road shadow, this mud lane just as wide as the road we were driving on. Vehicles driving onto the shadow in a bid to satisfy their perpetual desire to overtake, were the ones throwing dust and dry mud up. The outside temperature must have been around 35 degrees, the time being around 1pm in the afternoon.
I feel I am on rally road...and yet in the middle of this chaos....
I see an old man, very old, wearing white jabba (shirt with no buttons with a v neck, short sleeves), dhoti and gandhi caps. He is wearing very thick glasses, must be almost blind. He is sitting on the mud lane road shadow on my side of the road. He is sitting with a bowl outstretched...yes, he is begging. He has a potli (a sack of his personal belongings) next to him.
I was driving at over 60kmph. I must have seen this man for less than a second and passed by him much faster. My wife who was sitting ahead, did not see him. Neither did my parents who were on the rear seats.
I saw him at this speed and quite clearly. I still can see in the eye of my mind....
I remember wondering? Why is the poor soul begging here? What is he going to get here? Who is going to stop here? All of us around him driving like rally drivers, even if we see him, we are too late to stop, before we realise whats up.
And then I felt odd,,,,Felt melancholic, felt the world is so disconnected....More so, I am so mechanical, my world does not include him or the millions like him. I am more freaking worried about my playstation or whether Kimi Raikkonen will win 2008 Grand Prix.....or is my boss going to give me a good year end rating and bonus....
My world seems to be just that, "my" freaking world....not at all inclusive.
We were going to Shirdi, to visit Sai Baba. All through the remaining part of the journey, I could not help feeling blindsided, we had seen "him" and yet we had driven past, in search of a marble statue which was nothing but a piece of stupid grandeur, far away from where "he" was present within the real world.
While driving to Shirdi, I remember at one point, we were on a dusty highway, with wind blowing and quite a bit of dust thrown around. We were ensconced with the comfort of an AC car.
The road was a 2 lane road, no divider all along. On either side a mud lane, acting as a road shadow, this mud lane just as wide as the road we were driving on. Vehicles driving onto the shadow in a bid to satisfy their perpetual desire to overtake, were the ones throwing dust and dry mud up. The outside temperature must have been around 35 degrees, the time being around 1pm in the afternoon.
I feel I am on rally road...and yet in the middle of this chaos....
I see an old man, very old, wearing white jabba (shirt with no buttons with a v neck, short sleeves), dhoti and gandhi caps. He is wearing very thick glasses, must be almost blind. He is sitting on the mud lane road shadow on my side of the road. He is sitting with a bowl outstretched...yes, he is begging. He has a potli (a sack of his personal belongings) next to him.
I was driving at over 60kmph. I must have seen this man for less than a second and passed by him much faster. My wife who was sitting ahead, did not see him. Neither did my parents who were on the rear seats.
I saw him at this speed and quite clearly. I still can see in the eye of my mind....
I remember wondering? Why is the poor soul begging here? What is he going to get here? Who is going to stop here? All of us around him driving like rally drivers, even if we see him, we are too late to stop, before we realise whats up.
And then I felt odd,,,,Felt melancholic, felt the world is so disconnected....More so, I am so mechanical, my world does not include him or the millions like him. I am more freaking worried about my playstation or whether Kimi Raikkonen will win 2008 Grand Prix.....or is my boss going to give me a good year end rating and bonus....
My world seems to be just that, "my" freaking world....not at all inclusive.
We were going to Shirdi, to visit Sai Baba. All through the remaining part of the journey, I could not help feeling blindsided, we had seen "him" and yet we had driven past, in search of a marble statue which was nothing but a piece of stupid grandeur, far away from where "he" was present within the real world.
Post 341 : Weight Watcher 11 (Too slow, too less...)
Month of December, 11 out of a possible 31 days. Very bad show in terms of regularity.
A total of 196 out of total possible 329 days....On feb 5th, I finish a year of this schedule tracking.
Officially, I am not running the Mumbai Marathon this month around. Why? I am flying around that period.
42k ....that still sounds like such a freak dream.
A total of 196 out of total possible 329 days....On feb 5th, I finish a year of this schedule tracking.
Officially, I am not running the Mumbai Marathon this month around. Why? I am flying around that period.
42k ....that still sounds like such a freak dream.
Labels:
Running fast - away from death
Post 340 : The bridge the poet built....
I was reading Tehelka, issue dated 19th Jan 2008. In the letters to the editor, there was a general deluge of mails bemoaning the "repeat" victory of Narendra Modi. Quite a few of those letters are weepy, verbose and all over the place. The last one did not say a word, instead it was just a poem....by some soul called Ashok Gupta, Vadodara. I must admit, I was moved by the poem, it said so much more than the page long letters fussing on why Mr. Modi did not deserve to win.
Mr. Gupta, Modi and his ilk be damned....I really dont care. We/I exist inspite of them. But you...sir, are different. The world will be a lesser place without your words. A hug across troubled waters.
I have reproducted the poem as it is, mind you, it does not have a title. Angry men dont paint titles on their posters, they just sting....
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dead are never at rest,
especially at night
Sometimes, I hear him moving
upstairs
bolting doors, moving furniture
against the doors to make a
barricade
I cannot sleep
Other days there is a heavy
silence
Orange silence with only a
crackling sound
and an acrid smell
Suddenly he cries out aloud
Run Amina Run!
I tell him that th crowds have
gone
years ago
I no longer hurt
and he is dead
but he keeps screaming
They are coming!
Run Amina Run!
Shame! I should be ashamed
of raising issues that divide
- they say
But how can I forget
those they killed
mutilated and those they life
still hiding their nakedness
I will shout from the rooftoops
make memorials of poems
I will draw from the eyes
of the killers
not blood, but tears.
Mr. Gupta, Modi and his ilk be damned....I really dont care. We/I exist inspite of them. But you...sir, are different. The world will be a lesser place without your words. A hug across troubled waters.
I have reproducted the poem as it is, mind you, it does not have a title. Angry men dont paint titles on their posters, they just sting....
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dead are never at rest,
especially at night
Sometimes, I hear him moving
upstairs
bolting doors, moving furniture
against the doors to make a
barricade
I cannot sleep
Other days there is a heavy
silence
Orange silence with only a
crackling sound
and an acrid smell
Suddenly he cries out aloud
Run Amina Run!
I tell him that th crowds have
gone
years ago
I no longer hurt
and he is dead
but he keeps screaming
They are coming!
Run Amina Run!
Shame! I should be ashamed
of raising issues that divide
- they say
But how can I forget
those they killed
mutilated and those they life
still hiding their nakedness
I will shout from the rooftoops
make memorials of poems
I will draw from the eyes
of the killers
not blood, but tears.
Labels:
above the rim,
I think so I am a bigot
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