random noise generator

It’s easy to get used to a car in Mumbai. In Mumbai you have the option of getting jammed in a train or you can choose to get stuck in traffic in a bus. The train will kill you by an overdose of carbon dioxide from the stuffiness and the hordes of people crammed in and the bus will kill you by carbon monoxide from vehicular pollution. The single oxide bonding creates for a far more lethal gas and possibly the reason I prefer the train to the bus. While I was in nariman point, I happily took to the train as means of transport. Its frequency is better and it beats the vehicular pollution and the traffic jams. Travelling in bus is such a blackening experience.
Today the car went for servicing and Jasmine left me at Kings Circle for the bus. Waiting at the bus stop for the bus, all these years and nothing has changed. There still are no clear route maps explaining which bus will go through which route. The only thing that has changed is that the bus stops have gotten slightly better looking. This not necessarily better for the commuter, but better for the advertiser who uses the top of the bus stop as a hoarding. In my company we use them well and they sure are effective, but nowhere is the commuter brought into the equation. We could use the back of the bus stop as an effective communication tool about the bus routes. But in Mumbai, why bother? The technology to find out the route is as ancient as mankind. Ask the guy next to you or scramble around as the bus comes in to figure where the conductor is and shout ‘yeh worli jaayega’ (will it got o worli?). invariably the guy is in a tear away hurry and answers you as he rings the bell to signal the driver to move on. Today morning, it was especially difficult with all the windows closed as Mumbai is having a bit of a colder weather than usual. Nopes not cold, just colder than normal. So I was left at the bus stop with the knowledge than was ten years old. 85, 92 and 93 will go. I also remember a 90 numbered bus but that was no where to be seen. Possibly its discontinued or changed its route.
The roads are also supremely polluted and you can feel the pollution and dust hit you in the face as you wait at the bus stop. All it takes is a vehicle running past at full speed on the main road for it to sand blast your face with unburnt carbon. Luckily my bus came in soon enough and I was able to get a relatively empty looking bus. There seems to have been a spate of reservations done on the bus. Now there are around ten seats reserved for ladies and three for the handicapped and another six (I think) for the old. I was always fundamentally opposed to reservations for women and I feel they probably need to be treated on par with men. I understand old and handicapped for sure. But these reservations have also have more questions. When there are reservations, is it right for the women to sit in the non reserved seats. Shouldn’t the man insist on getting that seat? But those are simple practicalities and I probably should not really wonder too much about them. But what I do hate is what happened.
In the past I have sat unknowingly in the women’s seat when they were first introduced. It’s not like you can’t sit there. You just have to get up if a woman comes in and asks for her seat. But the women have been so rude and have demanded that you get up. First up. no request, no smile, just a rude ‘get up’. this tim ei was sitting in the senior citizens seat. One guy came in and to my luck asked the guy seated in front of me to get up. Again not too politely. He got up immediately. I too got up to ask him to sit at my seat but he sat in front in any case. I could hear the guy next to him (senior citizen) tell the newly seated guy that ‘see people just don’t understand’. What the hell yaar. It completely pissed me off. The poor guy got up without a fuss. You really expect the seat to be empty and people to stand while there is an empty seat. Soon enough a lady (oldish but not a senior citizen) was standing next to me. None of the women who were younger offered her a seat from the ladies seat. I got up and offered her mine. In any case I did not want to be berated by and older man who might come along. So I stood happily. It’s easier standing when you have to make the journey only once in a while. If you have to do it every day you might want to box some of the people’s head. I can still understand the older men. They tend to get cranky with age but I see no excuse with the women.
Impolite, disrespectful and full of themselves. Just a massive pain in the neck. Expecting preferential treatment and concern and then turning on their own ilk with ease. I have immense respect for the women workforce in the country. As I interview for people I see that women are much smarter and better than men. Possibly the huge pressure that they fight at home and at the workplace, makes for an efficient sieve, ensuring that only the very best survive. Whatever the cause, but I see them working brilliantly, shoulder to shoulder and not succumbing to pressure. Women have in them to be equal to men. Only if they rise above the condescending acts that society puts them through. Special considerations, reservations etc. They must fight them and actively resist them. Only by resisting them will they show the men that they are equal, that they cannot be discriminated against. I see it happening in India. At least I see it happening where I work. At least at these levels, middle management and lower, I see no discrimination in pay or work. They earn for their work done and are equal to any man at their level. I see India changing.
Girls are growing up to wear pants. I see this change even in small town India. Pants / jeans are a big leap for them. They will grow up to be more independent minded than what their mothers were. Slowly their fathers will grow accustomed to them being equal. Like some research that shows that cable and satellite penetration showed a big correlation to women welfare, I too believe that this impacts what women are “allowed” to wear and then it manifest in changing mindsets. For themselves and others. Also if they treat each other with a little more respect, in busses and in trains and treat others with confidence (I am assuming their rudeness towards men comes from insecurity), they would move a lot further than they are currently.
I have always wanted to treat Jispa as equal as a boy. In fact sometimes Jasmine thinks I am making her grow up as a boy. But I think that’s the way it must be. No special considerations as a girl. You fall down and if a boy is expected not to cry then a girl must not as well. She is going to grow up in a place where men and women will be treated the same, will be expected to be treated on par. Then why must she be any weaker? If you believe in yourself then the world be bend over and believe in you. No self doubt and no self pity. I was just explaining to Jispa the other day. I don’t remember what she said but I said. No self pity. No feeling sorry for yourself. Don’t think that shit is only happening to you. Stand up tall and deliver. Shit happens. Get up and no self pity. She got it at the time. She even used it in another context and asked me ‘isn’t that self pity’. Yup. That’s the way. When shit happens, as it will, you can’t get down and cry but you have to get up and see what you can do about it. At the very least laugh. Shit man.
On the singing bit – we told Jispa that of all the things we can’t teach her to sing. Sorry Jispa. And yesterday, she was obviously not selected for the singing contest. She was woefully out of tune. When I spoke to her in the night, she did not seem at all disappointed. That’s cool. At least I am relieved. Training her in something I have zilch expertise in was creating tremendous pressure on me. I could see her mistakes but under no circumstance could I have known how to correct her. Whoops.

breathe easy drive easy

Driving in Mumbai is a harrowing task and even the best of us I guess grow horns. It affects me in many ways that I thought impossible. Normally whenever I drive and I see some one trying to cross, especially the old and the ones with kids, I stop my car and signal them to cross. Sometimes I am rewarded with a smile. I even do that to a few women who seem to be lost right in the middle of the road. So that’s my good bit.
On the way home, there is some construction work happening for the monorail. This place has slums on the left and the construction has left very little space for the people to move. The footpath is obviously non existent. So we have tons of people on the road. Kids, women men everyone. I went honking honking getting them to move off the road. Then suddenly I realised what I was doing. I was honking to get a guy on crutches off my path. That’s unacceptable. While I stopped honking but the deed was done. It’s been difficult to control your irritation on these roads. It’s been difficult to relax while driving.
Today morning there was a school bus behind us, honking away to glory. A car is obviously faster than the bus and the reason I can’t drive faster is that there is a truck in front of me. I roll my window and request him not to honk via a hand signal. I overtake truck. He comes behind and then starts honking all over again. This is the limit. If he honks once more I will stop the car. HONK! Ok you asked for it. I stop the car in the middle of the road and the famous Doshi anger comes out in full volume. My baritone is used to good effect. Loud Jaimit voice can wake up neighbourhood – old jungle saying. I have seen this Zeus energy used by my dad and sometimes by my brother to good effect. My dad was a little hotter than it was right and I have tried my best to control my own streak. It’s far less but even one is one too many.
I also called the school later and lodged a complaint. You can’t drive like that and if you are a school bus you have no excuses. Absolutely none.
I guess the next time I will simply stop in front and alight and not utter a word. Silent satyagraha might be a better option.
That way Jispa’s school is pretty cool. I have never heard them honking. Even if you are late they simply call up and figure if you are coming and then they silently and patiently wait. The attendant also waits silently. He never gestures to any kid to run faster, au contraire he gestures to slow down. There is no rush. The kids climb in, he closes the door and the bus silently shifts into motion.
Taking a cue from that and an ad that says that driving in the 60 kmph band will help you save fuel, I drove nice and easy today. Patting my horns back inside my head, breathing easy, I realised that driving can be a form of yoga.

Recoil Reconcile?

I read on the bus today. The following seat bench is reserved for ‘the old, the physically handicapped and women’. I don’t know women can tolerate this. When they come into office they expect to be treated on par, to be paid equally and to grow equally. I hope to understand the feminist movement, but to then see good strong able women sitting down and classified along with the old and the infirm I wonder. Why would self respecting women accept this? Good educated women must protest, must not seat themselves here and must not expect special favours. Crush hour trains having special compartments, dedicated women trains is probably good, but to classified thus is blow to the feminist movement as I see it.

A small note on Clavin and Hobbes for Jispa when she grows up - Calvin is named for a sixteenth-century theologian John Calvin who believed in predestination; while Hobbes is named after Thomas Hobbes, a seventeenth-century philosopher with a dim view of human nature. Research it up. Its good fun. Do they fit or are they the opposite or it just doesn’t matter and is one of Bill Watterson’s pranks on you.

One of the reasons Jispa loves it is the faces Calvin makes. We should train her thus:-