Corporate bullshit

Yesterday we went from office to at the food court that’s recently opened out at Nariman Point. Touted as South Mumbai’s first food court (whatever), it was quite a cheerfull and colorful place. We went in early at 12 before the crowd comes in at 1. By the time we were through at 1 pm, there were so many office goers. Lots of guys in formals and ties forming a stark contrast to the place décor. In fact there were so many corporate junkies there that I instantly felt claustrophobic. I am not exaggerating but I really hated to see so many ties at the place. I guess my associations with these places are more fun and frolic and the more I see the formal types, the less comfortable I feel. I too was in formals there but thank god I don’t wear a tie everyday. Possibly these guys remind me of what I probably am as well as what I hate to be. Confused? Same here.

Speaking of corporatism, something really Dilbertian happened at office yesterday. The AC ducts are a perennial problem with offices. People next to them feeling frozen and those 1 cm off the zone, sweat it off. So the guys under the zone put newspapers and anything else to block off the vent, making the others feel even hotter. Every six months the guys come in and take out the packing only to be replaced a week later. There is one duct on the ceiling right next to where I sit. The last time I was in some funny mood so I stuck a picture of my boss there instead of a newspaper. See this:

So yesterday the housekeeping comes running to me “sir, we have to remove the packing in front of your AC duct”. I look at it and say “are you sure you want to remove it. It has JaideepSir’s (my boss) photo on it”. “sir, that’s why I came to you. I removed everyone else’s packing”. I tell him “dude, if you remove JaideepSir’s photo from there you are responsible for it. If he asks anything, I will give your name”. The house keeping runs away keeping it intact. He goes to the admin head. The lady comes here and sees the photo in complete disbelief. “You hung JaideepSir’s photo there?”. “ya, and I am not responsible if you remove it from there. Instead of praying to god, I pray to him everyday.” She too goes away without removing it. What shit? My sweet boss does not even care if his photo is hung there or would care less if it was removed. I can’t believe that this incident actually happened. Fact is stranger than fiction. In corporates you might require permission to do something but you require even bigger permission to change or remove something. hehhehehehehehe

Ageing gracefully

Well ok, I am getting old (er).
I went for a haircut on Sunday and told the guy to cut it short, real short. He gives me a cut that’s not so short and in the end he tells me that since my hair is thinning this is the right length. Any less and the scalp would show. Oh Ya. Sure. I couldn’t help smiling. All I could think of was the scalp of my dad and his brothers and all the male cousins on my dad’s side. All bald or in various stages of balding. I am getting there albeit a bit slower than the others I think.
The other proof of age I think is the number of times I am beginning to hurt my self. Over the weekend the first was when I was helping my friend shift houses. I whacked my jaw by carrying a huge picture frame of a God. I actually whacked myself while I was turning the frame in my hand from horizontal to vertical. I can’t believe it. Then on Sunday I walked into a huge bamboo pole which was horizontal at around 5 and half feet. Banged my head (around the ears) into it. To make matter worse, in my own kitchen while lifting my leg to put one leg on the stool (just like that) I banged my knee into the handle for the drawer. Euu. That hurt.
I am talking about pride more than the mere physical torture.

Fulfillment

OK. Just for the record Jispa knows cycling without trainer wheels. She knew it about a month back. Also for the record she knew a good 5 years before I did. A father feels fulfilled.
Also for the record she swam the entire length of the pool once. Technically her swimming is a bit flawed but she surely swam the entire length of the swimming pool.
A father feels fulfilled.

Mumbai followed by Melancholy??

A French lady I know loves Mumbai as a city. It’s her favorite city. She is always on the road traveling from one city to another and I asked her if she missed France and why was Mumbai her favorite city. This is what she had to say. (To be a little philosophical, you see what you want to see. )

Her Answer:-
“No, to be honest I don't. For me home is everywhere but France whatsoever. I love my family and my friends but for holidays, my addictions are travels, photos, sharing something with people, everything real to me. The more I see, the more I need to learn... And France tends to be empty of values and full of selfish or superficial people, it's my opinion.

Again I don't know what happened but it's like having India still on me, in me, wherever I am. This feeling to miss everything from there didn't fade away over the last 8 months and I can't wait to come back and find answers to my questions. We'll see, patience is a virtue. And of course I'll let you know when I plan to get there.
It's funny cause when we arrived, I told Chris I had the impression that the place was familiar to me although I had never been there before. As usual he thought I was going nuts with my spiritual stuff, for example when I told him that amethyst could help develop intuition lol but I really felt this.

I can't explain why I loved it so much but people say I'm passionate when I talk about my experience in Bombay and I enjoy explaining what the om around my neck represents for me, which is my whole stay in the country. It's as if I had everything in this pendant and I feel very strange if I don't have it, it symbolizes my Indian journey.
Let's just say that in Bombay, I felt like addicted to the atmosphere, in another world, another century, always sharing something with someone. The interactions I had with the people where so full of humanity, so real. A little kid, anybody smiling at me could make my day, the smells, the temperature and humidity, the colors, the bay, just breathing and this impression to be filled of happiness by simple things.
And this fascinating culture, the books I've read on Hinduism, everlasting necessity to learn more about it and try to understand, the faith of people.
Some people who have been to India were surprised of my enthusiasm when talking about it. They said they had hated it because "it's smelly, crowded, noisy, dusty, there's no structure, people are tough to manage, the traffic, etc". And my answer was that yes, but that are the charms of India and that's what makes the country so unique, great and particular. And that I enjoy chaos anyway. Now they don't understand and I reckon it's simply a difference of vision, meaning I saw Bombay with other eyes.

The memories still remain. You guys, so nice to us made a lot and we appreciated a lot your friendliness and the way you received us and gave us the great opportunity to share a lot with you.
The people of our street, the Cafe Coffee Day waiters who made me a surprise offering me a mug with moving messages written on it, the feeling to somehow belong to this place when I walked down the streets despite being a foreigner, the people accepting me as a white girl and sharing a tea with them, the funny kids I wanted to hug, the fact that you can see absolutely anything in India: the guys trying to sell giant balloons, toys or tam-tams whereas you're an adult and keep trying when you say no, full of hope, the food on the streets, eat with fingers, the way people share a meal altogether instead of having each a plate, our super helpful neighbors, the way the cleaning boy was looking at us because he thought we were crazy, our super driver Khan who was as a second father, the bargains on Colaba Causeway, going to Polly Esthers with Chris and coming back home in a carriage, the easy access to great places for weekends, watching those guys playing cricket by the University park, having an argument with my ex-boyfriend I was with in Bombay because he was mad at me when I made friends with the dogs and defended them saying "George also deserves some attention and understands what you say "(for me, all the dogs are named George, don't ask me why!), having this lizard in the kitchen and calling him Mohinder as if he was our pet, listening to Indian music while getting prepared for meetings, wandering in the Taj Hotel just for the smells and beauty of everything, having an american breakfast with Chris at Café Mondegar after a blast, etc etc etc.

I will always remember our last day in India. We decided to have the 30min cruise and enjoy the sun. All the memories accumulated over the 3 months in India came to my mind and I couldn't help crying thinking life was so beautiful on one hand and sad about the idea of being empty without all that, terrified to the country on the other hand. Chris was getting sun-tanned, sorry sun-burnt :), and the picture was really funny: him turning into a lobster and me into a fountain! Then a little girl on the boat asked my name, handed me her box of popcorn and offered me some. You have no idea how I felt full of joy, alive, real.

So yes, Bombay is different, so is India and every time I see an Indian person, I smile at them and am sure they understand I still have a foot there...”



There she wrote it very well. If what people think and see are actually a peep in what they are, Marie is a very beautiful person :)



On another note – I happen to be the editor at our international division internal mailer. This requires me to write some ed’s note every quarter. I love writing complete crap and leaving a few riddles in. the market’s are really bad now and no business is happening and hence the nate’s style and tone. See if you can catch the circular reference in the note.

Aesop explained the merit of a reed in the face of headwind. The mighty oak was too rooted in his past, too rooted for what or where he stood. Too rooted, period! Surly we face difficult times, and no amount of external motivation can help face issues as they arise. The voice of doom creates as much clutter as the crackling of a boom. Could the mantra possibly be to stick to basics and follow your own calling? Cutting through the eschatological noise requires a deep firm belief in yourself and your work. The deep inherent strength is probably what Sheldon Kopp meant when he titled his book ‘if you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him’. Not meaning to sound sadistic, but to the contrary; Killing the Buddha is looking deeply within us, understanding who we are, our failings, our strengths and everything that goes along with it, us. We are the experts in the journey of our own lives. A ha – Philosophy, eh? – the last refuge of the dumbfounded? The Lonely Planet on India warns that when you meet a sadhu, be on guard. The sadhu has been since centuries also a way for the criminal to hide.
To conclude I borrow the closing verse words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow who while reciting the heart of a young man to a psalmist wrote:
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

are you game?

Today while I was walking to the station today I thinking about how dirty we keep our public infrastructure. The city is so dirty. The civic body cares two hoots about cleanliness. The bridge I took to the station was tarred and there were so many cracks in it. I thought about Singapore and the fact that the pavement was smooth and devoid of any hazards. In Mumbai you look down and walk, else you might just trip. Look at the photo of my bridge.
I was cursing us when I suddenly realized. I realized that those cracks have allowed me to play a game every single day walking on the streets ever since I can remember. Not stepping on the cracks. Ensuring only one step between two cracks, or two steps for long gaps. If a right foot steps on a crack the next crack must get the left foot. And many such countless variations. I played them as a child I play them now.
If these cracks go I will miss them. Walking might be so boring. This is what they call interactive art installations. The rich are now striving for them. We have had them since ages. Now look again at the photo and let your imagination run a while. Don’t you see a beautiful checkerboard. A kid fantasy of being part of a large life size board. Of avoiding the snakes or passing through their bellies, perhaps climbing the ladder, jumping over other pawns. You decide the roll of dice, the rules and the competition. After all dude – you are the game.

thank you shitheads, you make my life... deep?

But to act, that each tomorrow, find us farther than to-day. Henry Longfellow is so right. Any experience and any day must take us further. That applies to holidays as well. This holiday we were in Haridwar, Rishikesh and Chamba. Being in Haridwar it easy to now understand why the there was resentment against the Brahminical tribe and their practice. I use the term loosely to describe those people who purport to show the way to God and spiritual upliftment. An important part of their trade (surely is a commerce) is to play on the fact that you would be able to absolve yourself of your guilt and bad behavior by merely following some magic formula. And guilt alleviation doesn’t some cheap.
At Haridwar we got sucked in by a guy getting us to perform some Pooja at the Ghat. I show Jispa believing it and repeating what the mantra the Pujari was asking us to repeat. This is not what I want to pass on to my kid. No Chance.
What I made a decision was that I will NEVER ever want to get caught doing anything ritualistic. No poojas, no rituals, no tikas, no bowing. Just belief in yourself, your actions and your inner voice. That itself is important, nothing else. I will probably still release a diya in the river, light one, cover my house with a garland, play the bhajan CD first thing in the morning in the car. Those are my feel goods. My vibes. But they will not be a source of strength or a belief that it will absolve me of any guilt.

I am glad that dickhead accosted me and showed me what an ass I am. Thank you for all the crappy shits (there is a long list of them in my life) in the world. What would I have learnt without you?