balancing it out

Coldplay, possibly the biggest band of the current time was to play in India. In Mumbai. A friend of mine, one day called me – “Arey boss, tell me fast, I am on the site and I can book tickets for the Coldplay concert. Tell me now and I will book now”. “How much for the tickets?” I enquired. “15 thousand for a ticket and we are all going. Tell me now and I will book.”. I thought about it for a minute and said – sure. I know Jispa likes Coldplay and I know that they are not going to be in India again and again and hence I booked the tickets. I came home and had a chat with jasmine – the tickets were definitely pricey. But that was no issue. We could always sell them later on. Then I sat to understand what tickets we bought. These were for the Global Citizen show which had a whole host of people performing and Coldplay was one of the many attractions. I searched more and realized that kids under 18 were not allowed. Ok – that was a bummer and then I offered the tickets for sale.

After us, most the friends who had also booked along with us, offered the tickets for sale and very few were really going. I explained the same to Jispa. She was disappointed but understood. Closer to the event news started filtering that young ones are going to be allowed as long as they are accompanied by an adult. As the tickets came in last week, it was clear, kids above 12 were allowed if accompanied by an adult. Hence the tug of war had already started. Between a friend and me we had six tickets of which 2 had been sold. So it was 4 left and we decided that he would get his daughter and I would get Jispa and got o the concert. If someone was willing to buy all four then only we would sell. Then another twist came in – Jispa had an interschool competition that day. I was ok bunking. Jasmine said – no issues, she can finish the competition and come. The concert was to start from 1.30 pm and last till around 10 pm. So she could always go late and obviously Coldplay would be the last performance. This was then the plan. One day before the organizers put out a bomb – no entry after 4 pm. Oh man – that meant waiting in line from 2.30 pm at least. Now what? So then I tried selling the tickets again online, on some facebook forum. Then my friend told me that I shouldn’t sell his tickets since he had promised his daughter. In all this Jispa had earlier been quite ok to sell the tickets or else we would go. In the end it was a chaos. I was getting a buyer and then I called to be sure. Now Jispa was feeling like she really wanted to go and WTF, and all hell was breaking loose. She also had a sore throat and a cold and was wondering what to do. Plus, the swim meet. What would she tell the coach? The pressure was real, decide now, I have some guy ready to transfer funds NOW. In the end, the call was taken – sell. Fine. I got a buyer and closed the deal with an advanced payment. Deed done. Now to sit and feel guilty about the whole process. Jasmine and me were feeling really bad. We knew she wanted to go and we bought the freak expensive tickets, but we just couldn’t make it happen.

So on the day we just simply sat in front of the TV screen and watched the concert live. Watching it on TV was a mixed reaction. It was an amazing concert with some amazing performances but then we noticed that the silver passes (which we sold) were really far away from the stage, unless you try and squeeze right in front near the barricades and risk getting crushed by the crowd behind you. There was no way that the passes were worth the 15k that we spent on them. We felt happy that the passes were sold. Jispa and me spoke about it and we discussed how badly a waste of money they actually were. I felt guilty that she did go but I also felt relieved that they were sold off. Even at 15k a pass if you are going to be that far away from the stage, it doesn’t really add up.

But we still felt really bad. We wanted her to go to the concert but it wasn’t to be. The next day my friends report came in. It was the most horrible moment of his life. The water was over most of the time, the food was over, the lines were long, the dust was too much, the stage was far, the performer wasn’t seen and the phones didn’t work. There in short – was the experience that ticket paying fans are going to be subjected to. On TV it looks like an awesome performance and it was. Chris Martin was awesome; the energy was infectious but the whole experience of seeing it live was a bad one. I spoke to Jispa about it. I had a chat with her. Sure it was bad and sure we couldn’t go because she was unwell and she had her events, but she deserved the right to go and see it for herself, experience it for herself and know firsthand what it takes to be at a rock concert and see for herself how bad it is. All the kids of course who went there, thoroughly enjoyed it. They are ok being hungry and thirsty and pushed around. They want to be there and experience what it is to breathe the same air as their band and they want to say ‘I was there’. Well so be it.

So now I told her that when she grows up, I would be happy to fund her concert and the ticket of her boyfriend as well. Ah… no reaction besides that of mild disgust. Jasmine is quietly still feeling bad and went online to check when is Coldplay next performing. She figured there is one concert in Singapore for Jispa to attend on 1^st April. I am happy to send them but I think that plan too fizzled out thanks to Jispa’s school.

I think there will be more moments for her to enjoy and more rock concerts for her to go to. Possibly the environment that we expect for her is way to sanitized. Maybe we aren’t able to set her free. She is now 14 plus and she needs her freedom. We check on her too much and we bother her too much. I think it’s time we set her free. I don’t think we should monitor her too much now. In the exams we told her that if you get good grades studying the way you do, then we are going to back off. I am keeping to my word. She gets her grade and I stay off. She can study the way she wants to and listen to music while she studies. I am not going to say anything. My dad used to tell me that he would force me to study and be after me till the tenth grade, after which he would simply stay off. I appreciated it a lot. He was true to his word. He never once questioned me on my marks or what I did or anything in college. He stayed true. So now one full generation down, can we not go down two year and three grade years. Now that Jispa is in the 8^th, she should be largely left alone. Left alone in her swimming and left alone in her studies. What more can you do. You can’t keep pushing your kid on this. Permit where you can and protect where you must.

I also realized that now Jispa has different issues in life. He issues would be interpersonal, boyfriends, girlfriends, attention, friendships, interpersonal. Here I don’t think she should come to us to sort them. She has to sort them herself. Sure she needs help, but not the in your face and let me tell you what to do help, but more subtle ones. I had a chat with her. I told her that now her issues are going to be her own and she will face them. She is going to find it funny to talk to us on them. She must talk to others, she must have friends who are elder to her and would chat with her. I told her that I would tell her about my issues that I had as a child and how I dealt with them, the mistakes I made and the various different experiences I had. I have opened up to her on my adolescence in the hope that she learns from it. She doesn’t need to find Buddha on the road, she needs to find them in her head. In the stories that she has seen around her, from the experience that history teaches her. She has to eliminate some basic errors or at least learn fast from them. Errors will happen, shit will hit you but you have to learn. If you learn fast you will grow better.

Somebody asked me if I would rather be old as today or go back 20 years. That is a crazy question. I am far better off today than I was 20 years before. I am healthier, smarter, more patient, richer, more aware of myself and my surroundings, more confident and everything else. I rather be today than yesterday. Possibly that’s a sign of a well maturing individual as much as it is a sign that I had a stupid childhood. Who knows.

At 41, my body is fats showing signs of wear and tear. I heal slower and I feel I can’t do the things that I used to do earlier. But I still like it. 20 years ago I was a thin kid with 16 kgs less mass and infinitely less money and even less confidence. I think 40 is a great balance. Yes, I am losing hair and that took some time to get adjusted to, but hell, it’s fun. I guess, I have to now fight to keep the balance that is there with me alive. This seems just right.

has de... (laugh it)

I just got back from Chennai. I was organising an employee cricket event. It was pretty much good fun. It was a chance to get back to Chennai after a long time. In my earlier role I had the chance to travel much more often and I squandered it away by being largely insular to the stimuli around me. I would sit at the hotel, sleep or watch TV in my free time. I hardly spent any time exploring the place and roaming around. For a traveller like me, it was pretty uncharacteristic. Probably it was so because I have always been a depressed business traveller. I hate travelling alone on work and without family, it’s always been a situation wherein I feel sad, depressed and lonely. Eating alone, sleeping alone etc is not exactly the stuff that I look up to.
Staying in posh hotels, the best I did was order food in the room, watch TV and take a long time in the shower. If there was a tub, I would fill it and relax. I really miss the small town small hotel which I used to stay in while i was much younger, while i completed my stint in Gujarat. During the recession when it all went away, it struck me... that i travelled and was an ostrich. Completely insulated and anal. I promised to improve my record.
So last week while I was getting my bag ready to leave, I remembered to pack in my lonely planet. Even a Chennai would have interesting places to see and surely I would be able to remove a few hours in the evening or in between. The one I honed in on was the Chennai museum. I fiddled with my schedule this time around to visit the place.
It is a little tough funding your way around Chennai. Nobody speaks your language and they exclusively talk in Tamil. Now I know what Nehru would have been through while he was trying his best to integrate the nation. Now I understand how anal the Tamils would have been while we were trying to manage the country through a common language. While this nationalistic and regional pride is ok to a point. But keeping it fiercely centric to one language is a complete waste. You alienate your own countrymen. Why would you want to do that? Can any state be completely insular to those around it. Can it safely say that Tamil belongs only to Tamilians. The irony is that it was the Tamilians who got up in arms against the Sri Lankan government decision to force Sinhalese down their throats in Sri Lanka. While they sympathised with their kin across the strait they did little to implement in their own homeland. Why? It is so difficult to speak to anyone in Chennai. Even in my own office beyond a certain level, the guys don’t even speak proper English and are completely impervious to hindi. Talking to my driver is a real difficult job.
But I guess I am unfairingly singling the Tamilians. All of us in India have retained the pride in our linguistic roots. We have consistently responded to linguistic fervour. We insist on local language signboards and even shop names. Here I can think of Singapore as one example which had successfully integrated three language identities into its fold, and adapting English as well. I remember a chapter in Lee Kwan book wherein he persuades the local language schools to move to a standardised English medium. As an individual I have faced the real sad situation of being unable to think, read proficiently or converse well in any language other than English. I think many beautiful pieces of writing will be forever lost on me thanks to my limitations. I would loved to have been taught a second language. Of course I was taught a second and a third and then a fourth language in school and we spoke a fifth one at home, but I ended up linguistically challenged. Never good enough to read litreture and understand its subtle nuance.

But then at least I can go around most of India and still feel at home. Chennai is alien to me. It seems hostile and unwelcoming. Why ...
So getting my way around the museum was a pain. Getting my around?? No I thinking reaching the door of the museum was also a pain. But I reached the museum door only to find it closed on Fridays. Dam! WTF. I hung around the campus and as I was ready to leave I chanced upon a ‘permanent book exhibition’. Not expecting too much I was suitably not disappointed. Metal racks with one side full of tamil books and the other full of English books, arranged in some apparent logic. Making my way through them I came across a set of really old books. Not that the books were old, but they were written at the time of eth raj. They came in the old style binding with golden embossed lettering. A type face font and image pages being called colour plates. There was nothing for me except one book on Tipu Sultan and his dad. Being fresh from a vacation in mysore, it caught my attention. As I began reading it, I leaned one side against the rack. Soon enough I was lost in the book. In some time a petite lady came up to me and said “hsdfksdhgcfwgwhjfghjdfghjfdfhgaxhjgf”. Arghhh. Dam you. It was Tamil and I couldn’t understand a dam thing. Then started all over again. This time with a lot of actions. I figured she did not want me to read the book too much and she did not want me to lean against the rack. Sure. I went about browsing again. This time I chanced upon glimpses of world history. A book containing the letters that Nehru had written to his daughter while in prison. Interesting. It felt a lot like this blog of mine. Posts written to my daughter while at work. I was reading it standing when another older lady came in and started in Tamil all over again. She too did not want me to read too much. Buy what you want and walk out dude. I don’t think this India has really understood what a book lover relationship is with his books. They don’t get it at all. While I did not want to court any fight I also wanted to read a bit. I read a bit more, bought the Nehru book and walked out.
I bear them no ill will. I just think to myself... how can we get our kids to love books when the whole job of many such people around book shelves is just to shoo people away. I remember my school librarian. A complete ass of a guy who had control to a large amount of resources (read: books) we had a massive library and a well stocked collection. But I don’t remember having spent any time there. I must have been there a few times. We even had a library period, but the only thing I remember was being told to be silent. Ssshhh. Some guys would get a bit interested in national geographic and show each other some pictures of Amazonian tribes, obviously naked. Once he caught them snigger and he called them and asked them what was in the magazine that they found funny. That put me off the magazines for sure. I did not to be caught doing anything with them. Even a more than a curious interest would have found me pulled up. We just don’t know how to inculcate a love for books, do we? The problem is not resources, the problem is the attitude. Love!
Just the day before yesterday I realised during a sufi music show that my religious leanings can be best positioned as similar to Sufi. A belief in love, humanity and simplicity of life. It must be so simple. It must be the truth. I think it would be the true way to solve every conceivable issue in life. I can surely think of it solving all my marketing issues. I am looking forward to the Sufi music festival this Sunday, which I hope to get a few passes for. It’s also an interesting thing that these days Hindi movies seem to be embracing sufi music and getting atleast one if not a few more songs into the movies. Reminds me of the old days where every Hindi movie definitely needed on qawalli song. Sufi music is designed with so much love that it can be used to show your love for god or to show your love for your beau. Love is at its essence pure, isn’t it? Whoever it is targeted at.

This one is obviously an abashed love for the mystic


This one is the one that can be for far a more earthy love. But isn’t that a mystic as well?

Even the whacko hit Dabangg carried a few songs which somehow when played on the radio I can’t get it off my head. I love them. What is it about being soulful, that I can’t them off. It seems to affect my heart in some way.
And then here is one of my favourites. A lifting one.


Two other links
http://dunkdaft.blogspot.com/2010/01/favorite-sufi-songs.html
http://entertainment.in.msn.com/bollywood/article.aspx?cp-documentid=3407582

cartoon hai

Yesterday before we went to see the zakir and shiv kumar sharma in a concert, we stopped by my mom’s house. That’s the big source of TV entertainment for my daughter. She gets in, gets comfy in front of the TV and can watch practically anything. But the big favourite with her is Tom and Jerry. She watch that anywhere for any length of time. That goes for me too. I too can watch that stuff forever.
The cartoons from my time as a kid are still being played and they are as relevant as ever. Probably the only thing looking dated is the rotary dial telephone. Rest all is so relevant. With some many things happening in such a short while it’s never a bore.
Yesterday she saw the title and straightaway told that this is a really funny one. She knows them by rote I guess. Once the cartoon started I realised that I knew the dam thing by rote as well. Now Tom is going to be hammered into the ground by the pole, now the ball will drop ahead of him, etc etc.
Schadenfreude is a universal ageless trait. But watching these cartoons with Jispa is even more fun. She goes on laughing and giggling while supplying her two bits. Its like watching it with a laughter track. Its gets really funny. The entire family ended up watching the dam thing and laughing like silly goofs.
Good thing before a classical music concert. In the second part of the concert, Shiv Kumar plays the light classical raga which left my wife and me thinking about the romance in the Yash Chopra films. A lot of those tunes reminded us of the songs that we have heard in those movies. Wonder why they went out of fashion? Listening to the santor made me picture the heroine in chiffon dancing in the cold and green valleys of Switzerland. Wah wah.. what romance.
Just for the heck of it, forgive me while I place these versus the song in the recent hit Wanted – your papa says you love me, your mama says you love me!
Whatever the music, I love the associations that they make in my head. An indian classical concert might trigger hindi movie emotions while the Zubin Mehta concert I went for triggered tom and jerry cartoons. Well that was the only place I hears them!