chomp chump morning!

Today morning I got up to drop Jispa to swimming and decided to go for my badminton. I try and avoid Wednesdays as I think I need one day rest in a week, but since I had bunked my pilates yesterday and I overslept in the bargain I thought I would be able to manage the badminton session.

I figured that I could come home and have breakfast after the game and so I told Jasmine. She asked that if I could come home, then I could possibly come and pick Jispa from the pool and take her to school as well. I thought a bit and said sure, lets try.

I finished my game a bit early, though with the heat the game was over for everybody. Today morning was possibly the hottest and most humid game of the year. We were dying for fresh air in the court. It was a stuffy and tiring and sweaty atmosphere.

I reached home and I had to make my own breakfast. I had the best ingredients for what I wanted to make. I showered and changed and switched the AC on and Then I went into the kitchen and I did not realise what it is to cook against the clock. It was 715 by then. I started chopping the tomates. I then realized that I could treat my self to a bit of coffee as well. I normally restrict my compumstion of coffee in the week. If I havce coffees for two consecutive days then on the third day, without fail I will have a headavhe I don’t have coffee. It happens to the clock, on the dat – after exact 24 hours. I have no clue why coffee depravation headaches are like this. To the CLOCK>

So I savour my coffee in the week. I only have it as a well-considered treat. So while cutting the tomates, I knew I was short of time so I put the water to boil and cut open the new pack of coffee which my dear friend got for me from Bali. It looked extra course to me. I thought I will use the south Indian filter instead of the French press. I packed the coffee in the filter and started to cut the tomatoes again. Then I cut my left thumb. I ran to the bedroom and pulled out a band aid and stuck it on the thumb, cut the rest of the tomatoes (after wiping some the blood from it). I got the bread, removed the chutni from the fridge, applied it fast. Then I removed the foamer from the cupboard and the soya milk from the pantry and then poured the soya milk into the foamer. Then I got the toaster (the one in which you put the sandwich in and put it on the gas flame). Then I got the special lovely awesome lactose free cheese and cut a piece. Jasmine brother in US sent these for me, specially. It’s awesome cheese. Thanks dear friend. There is nothing I love more, than lactose free awesome cheese…. Then I pulled out the grater. Then I put the tomatoes, the cheese and the oregano mix. Then I put the water into the filter. Then I put the Sandwich in the toaster and then I removed the olives form the fridge, then I made a few more sandwiches, then I almost burnt one sandwich, then I managed to remove it from the toaster (it was stuck on one side). Then I made another one, then I removed the coffee from the filter. I think the coffee was too mild as the ground of the coffee was too coarse for the South Indian filter. Then I saw that I had almost burnt the next sandwich, then I got the foamer to work, then the sugar in the coffee, then the sandwich got stuck again and I had to scrape it out. I had to literally take a knife and bang the bread out of the damn toaster. Then I got my third sandwich and the put in the plate, got my coffee and the put some ketchup on the plate and then I sat to eat. Wow…. Cooking is fun but cooking against the clock is crazy. I was done and my heart beat was up.

I sat in the AC to eat my food and I realized that I have to leave in ten minutes. So I get in and slap the stuff on the dining table and started munching the burnt sandwhiches and drinking the very mild shitty coffee and slapping sauce on it. The newspaper hadn’t come till then so I read a few pages on my kindle while eating the breakfast that I made. Damn it man. I took the best possible ingredients and had the worst possible breakfast in my life.

It was now time to run, so I tryand get ready when I remember that jasmine complains that I nowadays don’t clean up after my meals so I pick the plate, the ketchup, the tabasco, the olives, the mug and put everything in its place. I wash the foamer and put that properly in its place. And then I rush out. While I rush out I thought I might as well keep the hall door closed so that it traps some of the air conditioned air so Jasmine gets something nice when she comes in. Then I rush out to the car and rush to pick Jispa who I learn is late as her coach gave them extra practice, after which I had to really speed up to get her to school. Whew.

What a fast paced 70-80 minutes I had. I think my heart rate did not down for an hour afterwards. Then in the afternoon , Jasmine calls up and remarks “so, someone had a nice breakfast with the AC on, huh!”. ARrrrggghhhhhhh. I wanted to take my head and bang it on the table. I told her “I am not telling you but read the blog once I finish it. It was one hell of a shit morning! And I wasted my coffee and my lactose free cheese in the process! 

its awesome fun

To continue in the same vien with the last post… yesterday I was left alone in the morning with Jispa. My job was simple – feed her breakfast, get her to do homework and the practice math.

First things first – breakfast. That meant looking in the fridge for interesting things to eat. We had the Khulchas and then we had the zataar powder that we bought from London. One of the lovely bits of the London trip was a visit to the Edgware road which has these amazing rows of Lebanese restaurants. The fun bit is that the cuisine is a delight for vegetarians as well. We were spoilt for choice there with the amazing veg offering. In our naivety we entered the restaurant and asked – is there veg on the menu, he almost choked while answering – of course. I had been told about the street, but our host in London had recommended it highly and that’s why we ended up going. That was where we bought zataar to bring it back home. Made in Lebanon to be shipped to London to be brought back to India. So much for food miles.

So breakfast yesterday was fixed. Jispa loves zataar as well. After Jasmine left, I took the khulcha and put the zataar on it. Then I put shredded cheese all over it. Then olives and then a cheese slice. The cheese slice is yellow and the shredded cheese is white. So it gives an interesting coloring to the whole thing. Then in the micro it goes for a minute. Remove it and crumble feta on it – voila you have three cheese zataar khulcha. We absolutely loved it.

Post breakfast we sat to do our homework. I can’t really help her in Hindi. She asked for the Hindi translation of Sports day which I promptly asked Google. It was boringly apparent as ‘khel divas’. Then we got to the math. Here Jispa had to do fractions. After a few sums, I realized that while Jispa knew the sums she wasn’t really very clear about the fractions. She couldn’t visualize the problems. What then happened was a one and half hour session on fractions. Different sets of issues, different problems, different ways of looking at things. I was explaining the basic concepts of fractions to her. Then we went on to LCM and why we need LCM to add or subtract fractions. This helped her quite a bit. She was simply learning how to do the method without really understanding how or why. This way she could solve a few fractions directly without even using the paper. I don’t know how it might have impacted her immediately in helping her solve her sums faster but surely she walked away with a better understanding and a lesser hate for math.

Math is fun, it’s logical and it’s amazing. It’s evolved so beautifully. The multiplication and division and the fractions. They have a life of their own. I love them and now I love the fact that I am reliving them. I too did not know so much about them. While explaining to Jispa I am forced to look at them with a beginner’s eye. Then I am forced to bring them down to simple equations and situations and then look at them fundamentally. I broke it up into pies and pies and how you can get different parts of the pies to add up. I never did see them that way before. It was lovely and Jispa too loved it. She did get scolded in the middle but in the end she still loved it. I guess I must take more such lectures with her. And now I felt that we should have a white board in our home as well. The current one was designed for Jispa to access while she was three.

So Jispa and I are having some fun with math. Then today morning while driving her to the bus stop I asked her again if she enjoyed the session. She loved it. Then suddenly a thought stuck me and I asked her….When you multiply two numbers by each other – let’s say 7X7 you get a bigger number… But when you multiply two fractions ½ X ½ you get a smaller number… why?

Oops… it stumped her and me together. If multiplication is merely repeated adding then ½ X ½ should be 1, then why is it ¼

It took me some time to clear this out in my mind as well. 7X7 is seven TIMES seven and if you do seven multiplied by half you do… seven times half.  So I explained to her that seven into 1 is seven. Then seven into any number less than 1 will be a lower number. And hence ½ into ½ is half of half, hence a smaller number. So any number multiplied by a fraction has to be a lower number.

It seems so easy now. But to suddenly think of it and then logically solve in your head was so much fun. Especially with you 11 year old daughter. I loved it. The only problem is that I can only do these on Sundays or Saturdays when her exams are not on the head. Else it’s up to mom to ensure regularly work happens.

Mom and dad are in many ways opposites reconciling into each other to make parenting as a whole work. Its good fun going up with my daughter.

there is no real truth and that is the truth (relatively speaking)

Earlier in my life I never understood how truth could be relative. Truth could never be relative. Either it is there or it is not there. It is a binary equation. One or zero. Either you speak the truth or you are lying and if you speak the truth then you are not lying.

It took a whole lot of experience to understand it otherwise. Now I argue against the absoluteness of truth. There is no such thing such as the absolute truth. Everything is relative, situational and depends on perspectives. I should have guessed this as a kid. I remember as a kid, possibly in third standard or so, thinking to myself… how do I know that the blue I see id the same blue you see. You must be seeing the blue I see as green and since you are taught to call that color as blue and so have I, we will never know if we both see the same color in the same way, though we call it the same. I still love that argument.

That was an interesting introduction for me into relative truth. And now that’s what I believe in. it’s difficult to say something is the truth. There are always more variables at play than you can imagine. That’s why economics is so difficult. Earlier on the economist thought that they had cracked economics. You put in the variables in a formula and voila – you have human behavior. But you never know all the variables and you never know the relative behavior to any of the mix. So to the economists who thought they cracked it all, they came out pretty confused. They should have understood it when they saw Giffen goods. Giffen goods. One of the earliest theories taught in economics showing the surprising side of economics. Simply put – it talks about a phenomenon of demand for a good going up due to the rise in its price. It violates the simple demand curve. So this made economics fun, but then the boring teachers got into the game and completely killed economics in college. I wish we had some exciting economic teachers who loved the fun of the subject as opposed to the weariness normally associated with it. bloody hell, I learnt this stuff for five years and I never understood its true principals till much later in life.

So coming back to the relativity of truth. It’s always depends on the point of view. It’s easy to pass judgment on the side. One so many things we just don’t understand the complete implications. We want terrorist killed but we fail to realize that one era’s terrorist is another era’s freedom fighter. I always question Jispa on many things. I ask her simple questions and leave her to ponder. I think she is now old enough to understand even more complex equations. On Sunday we sat down to eat breakfast. It was the same breakfast we ate on Saturday. Roti rolled up with paneer, fresh veggies and some chutney and sauce inside. On Sunday as I put in the green chutney and then put the red pizza sauce on her roti before putting the veggies, Jispa wanted the brown sauce on it. “Brown sauce? There is no brown sauce” “yes, yesterday you put in a brown sauce, there was one”. “no Jispa, This roll is the same as yesterday. There is nothing else missing from what I put in yesterday. It’s the same dam thing. I am the cook, I should know”. “No dad, there was a brown sauce in it. Can I have that”. Arey yaar. What the hell. Till Jasmine figured… “Jispa. yesterday dad had premixed the green and the red sauce and that’s why it looked like brown sauce. Today he is just applying it on your roti separately”. Oops.

After a minute I explained to Jispa. You were right and so was I. There was a brown sauce and the roti today is same as yesterday. Both were right but we were both fighting with each other thinking that the other was wrong. Many times two people can see two versions of the truth. It’s not necessary for one to be wrong for the other to be right. Sometimes it’s not even necessary to know the difference. It’s simply best to let it be. Many times the truth is too difficult to dig out and then the relativeness of truth makes it possibly an exercise in futility. Move on! But isn’t that such a difficult thing to do.

axiomatic

We have three microwaves in the office pantry. Two are behind the counter and one is in front of it. The two are meant for the pantry staff to heat the food and give and the one outside is meant for the employees to heat their own lunch. The dabbawalla has been giving me the slip and hence these days I am carrying my own lunch to work. This means quite cold lunch which needs some reheating in the office microwave. So I have been reheating my food and gulping it down. Since yesterday the microwave outside has been spoilt which means I have had to give the food to the pantry staff for reheating. Today I told them to just shift one of the working ones outside so that it easier for them. The junior merely looked at his senior who said “only you used to use that microwave outside”. Huh? “Everyone else gives US the food for reheating”. What hell? The plates are outside, the spoons are outside. All one has to do is to transfer the food and reheat it on your own. Why would you want to give it to someone else? Its so dam easy to do it. I guess I am a little do it yourself kind of guy. This side of the world there is enough cheap labour for everything and this labour is also ready to do anything. I am sure in the west they would have been pointed to the micro outside. A lot of these ‘self reliant’ thoughts were formed well in advance. I hated to let the servants do too much for me. Its something I like Jispa to learn as well. She is amongst the few kids we know in her circle without a maid. Everyone else has one to piggy back upon. The maid runs for them, gives them water and food on demand, plays with them, follows them to parks, gardens, movies parties, holidays, vacations…everywhere. Jasmine and I, I guess, just prefer to do our own thing. I also learnt to do a lot of my house work from my father. There is no problem doing the dishes, cleaning up after food or having your wife stay up late to serve you. You just get on without disturbing too many people. I first realized this cultural mismatch at my in laws. First the males would sit to eat while being served by the women. They would then sit later. Especially when guests came in. very rarely has the entire family sat in together for the meals. Whereas I prefer everyone sitting in and eating together. The rotis might be a bit less warm but the dinning table conversation will be warmer. Dinner together was the rule when I grew up. Since dinner together is almost impossible in Mumbai given the timelines, I am trying to enforce a breakfast together rule. Jasmine undergoes some stress on this with all her work starting off in the morning but I think it should work. I just have to be at it everyday. I don’t mind being the enforcer in this regard. The axiom - a family that eats together, stays together

zen in squash and conversation

Well the first day of squash was fun. I love the way different games have wildly different techniques. I kept slicing the racket on top of the ball and ball kept hitting low. It was fun. I think after my first bits of knocking the ball around, I got a sense of how the ball moves. It was also a little funny trying not to be too wristy which is a fantastic thing in cricket and I love using it there. Backhand was even tougher. I can’t believe I missed the ball completely at times. Just an air swing. Oh god that was bad. Was someone watching? Well there was a pro sitting behind me. I just looked and smiled at him and he smiled back. Then I realized that one has to time the ball. I remembered my cricket and also the one time I learnt golf. Its timing the ball. So I just waited as the ball bounced and that split second where I could see it stationery and thapack…. Now that’s nice. Good shot. At least it went forward. Now as I write I remember the amazing book (May all time favorite), Zen in the art of Archery. I remember portions of it and it has helped me in cricket. I was applying similar principals yesterday as well without realizing. Hmm interesting how it has become a part of my consciousness. Now to reread the same after a bit of practice. But I just love that book. It is absolutely amazing.

Another thing I realized yesterday. I was meeting an old friend of mine. She used to work for me long time back but now she is working elsewhere. She has a very high EQ and is a sharp chick (now lady). We talk les often but when we do, it rarely small talk. Its about life, about other stuff. I realized one thing is that I am supremely bored by small talk. Ya, I seem to be having fun at parties cracking really stupid PJ’s but I hate getting into small, random talk which leads nowhere. I hate getting drawn into those conversations. Man now I know why I hate parties, marriages and the types. They are soo bloody boring. I hate it. If we must talk it should either be complete fun or oscillate to the other side. These in betweens are so fucking boring.

Eeeps. I have to control abuse in office. I don’t like it. Will try to get it off my vocab. Am trying!

Random:- picture of breakfast at my hotel in Geneva. Full style! Muesli, berries and bread with 'designer butter'